A Not so Normal Farmboy Enters the Wizarding World
by Sherwoods-GreenLady
Summary: Title's long, I know. Clark Kent goes to England. Guess who he's staying with for awhile? SVHP xover. CH 11 Up! RR Please!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm sorry to those of you that have been waiting for me to update. Stupid life in the way. I've been attempting to revise my story because it's just not good enough for me. I just hope that all my readers agree and like this version better. It's longer and perhaps more detailed.

This story takes place the summer after the twisters in Smallville, and during the summer of the fourth book and during the fourth book of Harry Potter. I have changed some things to fit the story. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Harry woke up to the sound of tapping on his window. He looked over and a large barn owl was perched outside looking in at him. A large parcel was with him. Harry went to open the window and took the package from the owl and allowed him to get some water from Hedwig's tray. She wouldn't mind since she was still out hunting. It was still dark outside, but as soon as Harry saw whom it was from he cheered up. It was from Ron Weasley, one of his best friends from Hogwarts. He must have borrowed his brother's owl, since it wasn't the one Sirius had given him or the family owl. Earlier that week Harry had sent out letters for help. His Aunt Petunia had started them all on a diet because of Dudley's weight problems. He couldn't take it any longer so he sought out help from his friends. Hermione had already sent some sugar free snacks, since her parents were dentists. Ron's package contained an assortment of sweets from berttie botts to chocolate frogs. He grabbed one of the chocolates and eagerly ate while he placed the rest under a loose board under his bed.

Harry sat for awhile watching the night turn to a hazy dawn. Hedwig came back from her nightly hunt with a mouse clamped in her beak. She placed it down and gave a questioning hoot to Harry.

"I'm fine girl, just wanted to stay up after that owl came." He stroked her feathers and she nibbled his fingers affectionately. She then picked up her mouse again and glided over to her cage.

Harry listened for any movement from the Dursley's. His uncle was obviously up, because he didn't hear his low snoring anywhere. He waited for another half-hour before he came out of his room and went downstairs.

Aunt Petunia had set out grapefruit for them again for breakfast. Harry now knew how much he loved his friends for sending him food. If they hadn't, he probably would have wasted to nothing before he went back to school. He sat down at his spot and looked down at the quarter of grapefruit on his plate. Obviously it was the smallest. Even if they had proper food he would get the smallest amount. Dudley had joined them and was eyeing everyone else's pieces hungrily. Uncle Vernon was hidden behind his newspaper as usual. After a few minutes of eating in silence he placed his newspaper down and cleared his throat.

"Everyone, I have some exciting news. We will be having an exchange student staying with us for the rest of this summer." Dudley looked excited and he forgot about the rest of the grapefruit for the moment.

"Where are they from, Dad?"

"America. A little town called Smallville in Kansas. Now, they will arrive in two days and I want everything prepared for them."

"When did you decide this, and why didn't I hear of it first dear?" Uncle Vernon's supposed cheeriness disappeared for a moment at Aunt Petunia's question.

"It was rather sudden. My boss was to have the exchange student at his house, but his wife had a sudden urge to remodel the entire upper floor and he's not even staying in his home at the moment. I had no other choice but to accept when he asked me to take the boy in." Of course when he said no other choice he meant he'd probably be put on the boss's list of "those to fire in near future".

"Where are they going to sleep though dear? We certainly can't put them in with Dudleykins. He needs his growing space," she looked at Dudley in a way that made Harry want to throw up his poor excuse for a breakfast. "But I don't see how we can put them in with _him_." Harry didn't need to ask who _him_ was. They always talked about him like that. Uncle Vernon now had a frown on his face.

"I'm afraid we'll have to put the exchange student in with _him_. Dudley wouldn't have any room anyway," That was an understatement for Dudley's room. His was twice as large as Harry's and where Harry now slept used to be Dudley's toy room. Harry didn't argue though. The thought of having an American in his room for the rest of the summer excited him, but dread filled him as he realized what would come next. Uncle Vernon turned to Harry now, "Don't think that you can try any of your funny business when they're here, Boy. Everything that tells what you are is to be locked up in your trunk for the remainder of the summer and that dang owl of yours must be locked up somewhere too."

"But...."

"Don't even think you can leave out one think boy, or you'll be locked up with them."

"Hedwig needs to be out once in awhile though," he protested.

"No, that bird will not be let out. If someone from another country knew that we had a nephew that was not normal it would be catastrophic." When Uncle Vernon said not normal he meant everything having to do with the wizarding world Harry belonged to. It was to be his fourth year at Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry this year.

Harry remained quiet for the rest of the meal, if that's what you could call it, and then went up stairs to hide some more things of his underneath the board in his room. He would send Hedwig to the Weasley's and ask them to watch her until their guest left. He hoped that whoever they were, that they wouldn't be too much like the Dursley's. Three of them were bad enough.

**In Smallville that evening:**

"Clark, are you sure you want to do this? You've never liked heights and flying is pretty high." The Kent's were gathered in the living room where Clark had a letter in front of him. He smiled at his mother in what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"I'll be fine mom. I need to face my fears eventually. I won this free trip to England for an experience of different cultures and I plan to take it. Besides, I think I need it now." He had been trying to get rid of some of the memories of the storm that spring all summer long. This was his chance to get away from some of it for a time, even if it meant flying thousands of feet above the ground. His father looked at him now, his face stern.

"Clark, I want you to be careful. You'll be living with this family for a while and you don't want to make a mistake and reveal anything about yourself to them."

"I won't Dad. I'll be just as careful around them as I am around everyone else in this town...... I have to go pack now." Clark got up and went up stairs to his room. Martha Kent turned to her husband and smiled at him.

"You have nothing to worry about Jonathan. He's a responsible boy that can take care of himself. Eventually he'll have to go out into the world by himself."

"I know Martha, but every time I look at him I still remember that boy we found during the meteor shower; so young and innocent. What if he makes a mistake, says the wrong thing?" Martha put a reassuring hand on his.

"It's going to be all right. They won't notice anything out of the ordinary about him. Maybe they'll just push it off as American teenager behavior." This made him chuckle a little but he was still worried.

**Two days later: **

"Here we are, and just in time too," said Uncle Vernon as they reached one of the gates. An airplane was just pulling up outside. Harry had never been to an airport before. Each time anyone came to visit them he was usually left with their neighbor, a crazy but nice old lady with cats. Of course with the way wizards could travel he figured that this would probably be the only time he'd come to an airport.

He turned his attention to the people coming out of the door to look for anyone that might be who they were picking up. The sign that Dudley held up had the Americans name on it; Clark Kent. Most of the travelers that came off were either too young or too old to be him. Then out of the corner of Harry's eye he caught sight of a red jacket. He turned his gaze toward it to see a tall muscular youth, just a couple years older than himself he guessed, with dark hair and light blue eyes. The boy caught sight of the sign the Dursley's were holding up and made his way to them with a nervous smile on his face.

"Hi, you're the Dursley's I presume. I'm Clark Kent." He offered Uncle Vernon his hand and they shook.

"Yes we are Mr. Kent. I am Vernon Dursley," Uncle Vernon gestured to everyone else one at a time, "This is my wife, Petunia, My son Dudley, and our nephew Harry Potter." Harry noticed that he didn't say his name with much eagerness. Clark smiled at all of them and said hello. They all stood there before Aunt Petunia finally broke the ice.

"Shall we get you to our home now? You must be tired from your flight."

"That would be nice thank you. I've never been fond of flying." Harry looked at Clark strangely. He couldn't see how anyone could not like flying. Of course he was referring to broomsticks, not airplanes.

Clark had truthfully not liked the flight. He forced himself not to look out the window but it still didn't help much. When he'd finally gotten off he was surprised that he didn't kiss the ground as soon as they landed. Now, his thoughts were turned to the family in front of him.

The father and son, well let's just say he'd seen livestock thinner than them. The woman, Mrs. Dursley, was as skinny as a plank. The three had one thing in common though, their over-groomed appearance. It was obvious that they tried to impress everyone about them every second of the day, and would do anything to remain on the good side of anyone with lots of money in their pocket. Clark had seen the same thing in some of the men and women Lex did business with, which happened to be the ones that Lex referred to as his "easiest business associates". It was easy for him to read the expressions of these types of people though they seemed to always think they had the best poker faces ever.

Clark then looked at the family's nephew, Harry Potter. It was obvious that he didn't like his relatives that much, but they didn't give him any reason to from the way they looked at him. Disgust was in his relative's eyes when they looked at him, even fear, which confused Clark. Why would they fear Harry? He didn't look like he was dangerous. His clothes were baggy, and his messy dark hair went everywhere. There was tape wrapped around parts of his glasses, which continued to slip off his nose. He just seemed… normal, though when Clark looked into those dark green eyes he noticed a wild intelligence, and pain Clark knew reflected in his own eyes, that none of the Dursley's seemed to possess. And that strange scar, like a lightning bolt, upon his forehead confused Clark. That, did not seem normal. He suspected that it may be connected to some of the pain in Harry's eyes.

Clark's thoughts were cut short then as he followed the family out to a car and he was soon on his way to a world he'd never seen.

**At 4 Privet Drive:**

The house was much like its owners; well-kept and perhaps even too kept. The lawn was neatly manicured, nearly identical to its neighbor, as was the front of the house. Clark had never seen such small houses and so close together. It was nearly suffocating compared to the open spaces of Smallville. When they went into the house the first thing he noticed was the several pictures on the wall. Each showed the boy, Dudley, or him and his parents. Clark took note that none showed Harry. He was led up some stairs and they stopped in front of one of the first doors.

"Alright, Mr. Kent…"

"Please call me Clark. Mr. Kent makes me feel old." Vernon nodded and continued.

"Ah Yes, Clark this will be your room while you stay here. I'm afraid you'll be sharing it with my nephew though." A scowl crossed his face as he said the last part and his gaze shifted to Harry, who was looking the other way in a way that Clark knew he didn't care what his uncle was saying and was making it obvious. Clark just smiled and gave a quick nod of approval.

"Sounds great. I'm sure me and Harry will get along fine." Vernon Dursley plastered on a fake smile as his gaze fell upon Clark once again.

"Then I'll just leave you to unpack. Dinner will be soon so you can wash up and then come downstairs," he then looked over at Harry, who Clark had noticed had slightly turned his head to look at him out of the corner of his eye during the conversation. "Remember what I said this morning." Harry gave a short nod and Vernon then gave Clark another fake smile and headed down stairs.

Harry led Clark into his room. Now that all his school stuff and anything from the wizard world had been locked away in the cupboard or was underneath his bed, there wasn't much there. A few books lay on the small shelf he had, all old and mostly torn from when Dudley had had them but never actually read them. This was pretty much all that was there besides his bed and one extra set up beside it, a small dresser, desk and tiny closet, which didn't hold many items either.

"I cleared a few drawers out for you to put your things in. Er, sorry about the room, it isn't much." Clark set his bags at the base of the extra bed and turned back towards Harry with a smile on his face.

"It's great actually. One of the few things I've seen here that remind me of home. No offense to your relatives but their house seems too… neat."

"You think that's a bad thing?" Harry didn't make it obvious, but inside he was nodding and grinning in agreement. Clark shrugged, flashing another smile.

"I grew up on a farm. Mess is unavoidable sometimes. You have to get use to it." Harry finally let the smile he was holding out and laughed a little.

"I know what you mean. I'm used to a little clutter. I sometimes don't get my aunt and uncle's need to keep dirt off the floors every second of the day." He didn't understand it and didn't like it since he had to do most of this cleaning. For people who thought he wasn't good at anything, they were hypocrites for having him do the cleaning.

Clark had wandered over to the shelf and picked up one of the books. It was one of the books about aliens that had belonged to Dudley. He'd actually seen Dudley get past a few pages in that one before he discarded it also. It had one of those spaceships that you usually see associated with aliens and three tall green figures in front of it with giant heads. Something like amusement flashed across Clark's face before it quickly disappeared and he looked up.

"This looks interesting. Are you into alien stories?" Harry shrugged.

"Not really. It's not like they exist. The book belonged to my cousin but he isn't much of a reader." Clark nodded in understanding and placed the book back on the shelf. Harry noticed another flash of amusement cross his face and felt an urge to ask him what was so funny. He restrained himself though. He'd promised to behave. Uncle Vernon hadn't given him many other options other than spending the rest of the time he was here during the summer in the cupboard. Then a flash of something Harry had hidden most of from his eyes, pain, crossed his face but was gone as fast as it had appeared. Again, Harry restrained himself but wondered what could have caused this older boy's pain.

"Maybe I'll check it out some time when I get back home. So, how long have you lived with your relatives?" Harry frowned and avoided the older boy's gaze for a moment.

"Since I was barely older than one. That's when my parents died and I was sent here." He could tell the boy regretted asking now.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"It's really all right. I can barely remember them anyways." Clark nodded understandingly.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," he paused for a moment as Harry looked at him questioningly. "I'm adopted."

"Oh…"

"Don't worry. My parents now are the best anyone could ask for." They stood in silence before a clinking was heard from downstairs and they both realized that dinner must be ready.

"Er, well that's dinner. We should go wash up." Clark nodded and they went to clean up and then headed down the stairs.

Aunt Petunia had made a better dinner than they'd had in awhile. Instead of just salad they had some chicken and mashed potatoes along with it. This was another advantage of having an exchange student in the house, though Harry could tell that he'd gotten most of the bruised lettuce and the smallest piece of chicken once again. He just shrugged though and sat down to eat. Clark quickly took the seat beside him and they were all soon eating silently.

Finally, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat to get attention and turned to Clark with one of his stupid smiles on.

"So, Clark, what's it like in America?"

"I live in one of the smallest towns there actually. It's named Smallville for a reason. I don't see much of the big towns except for Metropolis when I'm able to. School and farm work keep me busy though."

"Ah, so you live on a farm? I've always found wide open fields very refreshing." Harry had to hide a snort as he heard this. His uncle was lying through his teeth, and it was obvious that Clark knew that too. The man hadn't been out of this cramped place except for business and that one time he'd gone mad when Hagrid had sent all those letters. Clark just nodded and continued with a bit about his town.

"I've lived there practically all my life, since the time of the meteor shower." Harry saw a small wince cross Clark's face as he said this, which drew his curiosity. Perhaps that's when he'd lost his real parents.

"Meteor shower? I've seen those, very beautiful," Petunia put in as she cut her chicken.

"Not this one. The meteor rocks were far bigger than you'd usually see. It killed many when it hit, and it caused strange things."

"What strange things?" Harry couldn't keep himself from asking, which earned him a glare from his uncle but he ignored it. Instead he stared expectantly at Clark.

"Mutations. My friend, Chloe has several theories on it and there have been certain people with odd abilities." This made Harry freeze for a moment, and he saw the Dursley's pale slightly too. These odd abilities could mean a sloppy wizarding community was near their town or magical creatures. Just to clarify, Harry asked another question.

"What sort of odd abilities?" Clark seemed to think for a moment before he began to list off things.

"A bug boy, a girl who could change her appearance, a boy who absorbed heat from people in order to keep warm, the list has more but I'm afraid there's going to be more if something isn't done. What makes it worse is that practically all of them turn evil."

"Sounds dreadful," Aunt Petunia said, though she looked more relaxed since he hadn't mentioned magic.

"Yeah, but as Chloe says: Land of the weird, home of the strange. Nothing's quite normal in Smallville." Harry nodded. He hadn't heard of things like that in the magic world. The shape-shifting did sound like the polyjuice potion, but this girl apparently changed without it. This town sounded strange. He'd have to research it more some time.

"So, Clark… have these mutants been restrained? It would be dreadful if these freaks were to contaminate the world," asked Aunt Petunia. Her voice held a venom, as if she had a personal reason to hate these mutants in Smallville. She was probably comparing them to witches and wizards, which she also judged unfairly. Clark's eyes seemed to darken as he looked at Aunt Petunia and his lips formed a scowl.

"I wouldn't call them freaks. Many of them turned bad because of the treatment of others. Revenge and hate was most of their greatest fuels. Calling them misunderstood and unfamiliar with the kindness of others would perhaps be the best way to describe most them." Clark seemed very offended, it was obvious, but Uncle Vernon didn't seem to see this.

"Well, they probably were treated the way they were for a reason."

"Really," Clark's voice was as cold as steel, "and I suppose wanting acceptance for who you are, wanting love and friends, was a reason to be persecuted by everyone around you? The boy who absorbed others body heat, now he probably deserved what he got, but most of the others had been mentally scarred." Uncle Vernon was about to say something, his mouth open, but nothing came out and he just clamped his mouth shut.

Harry felt like he'd just won the Quidditch cup. Twice. Someone had actually gotten his uncle to shut up and had taught him something. Clark sounded a bit scary. He was defending these people, despite the fact that he had just said they were all villains, as if they were close friends. Some of them may have though, now that Harry thought about it. Clark had said that he lived in a small town and so it was very likely that he knew every single person that had those mutations.

They all ate in silence after that. Clark was the first to excuse him self from the table, saying that he was tired. They all bid him good night and as soon as he disappeared up the stairs, Uncle Vernon turned on Harry with a scowl.

"I hope you got all of your things out of that room and in the cupboard, Boy."

"I did, Uncle Vernon." Harry wasn't up for much arguing at the moment, so he put up no fight with his uncle.

"If I find out that you've left even a quill out, you'll be locked up before you can say that drat name of your poor excuse for a headmaster." Harry bristled at this and quickly stood up.

"Albus Dumbledore is a respectable man. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go before what happened to Aunt Marge happens to you." Harry said this through clenched teeth and swiftly left the room and went outside to cool off.

Clark still felt a little on edge after his heated monologue at the dinner table, but that didn't prevent him from hearing part of the conversation downstairs. Apparently the Dursley's didn't know that sound easily traveled up their stairs. He still didn't understand what they were talking about though. From what he heard though, apparently Harry's relatives didn't like the school he was going to. What was that about leaving a quill out though?

Silence had soon fallen upon the room downstairs and Clark quickly checked to see what was happening. With his x-ray vision he saw three skeletons still sitting at the table in the kitchen while another moved outside, probably Harry. Clark then, on a whim scanned the rest of the house. What he saw came as a shock to him. Underneath the stairs was a trunk full of random objects. This would have seemed normal if it hadn't been for what seemed to be a cauldron and a certain book that looked like it was breathing. His eyes then quickly darted to the broom leaning against the trunk with the word "Firebolt" printed on the side. This nearly distracted Clark from noticing that there was something in the floor underneath Harry's bed. There, he saw more books, paper, quills, and an assortment of strange treats.

Clark finally switched back to normal sight but continued to stare at Harry's bed. Finally, one thought popped up out of Clark's muddled mind.

_What are you Harry?_

A/N: Hehe. I love ending stuff like that. Don't ask me why, I just do. I suppose it's something that most writers love but readers just can't stand. If I was reading a story that did what I just did, I'd be mentally yelling at the screen or book and making frustrated gestures with my hands. I know those of you that have already read this have already covered this part of the story but bear with me. I've got a few more surprises than there were before thanks to a night of insomnia that brought a certain thing that I'm not going to tell you about until later to the plotline.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Hey, thanks for those of you who are still with me here. I've been rather rude to keep you waiting so long for revisions. Here you go, another chapter!

p.s. I'm dedicating this chapter to Sirius Black. To a great guy, I wish you didn't die! Wait, what am I saying? No, he isn't dead. As long as we have fanfictions we can resurrect him as many times as we want! Still, it's dedicated to him since he's mentioned in the later part of the chapter.

Chapter 2

Clark managed to get to sleep soon after he crawled into bed. His thoughts on what he'd recently discovered about Harry didn't help though. He didn't sleep for long, and was up as soon as light streamed through the window. Looking over at Harry's bed, he noticed that his bed was empty. Harry must already be downstairs, he thought.

He quickly washed up and dressed before making his way downstairs. The Dursley's were gathered around the table, while Harry was stirring some scrambled eggs in a pan. They all looked up as Clark entered the room and Mr. Dursley put on one of his cheesy smiles once more.

"Good Morning Clark. I hope you slept well?"

"Yes, very well actually." Clark smiled politely back.

"Please sit," Dursley gestured to one of the empty chairs. "I hope you like eggs and bacon. It may be awhile before the eggs are done though." Mr. Dursley's gaze shifted towards Harry with a glare, as if he thought that would make him work faster. Harry just ignored him and continued watching the cooking eggs.

Clark sat and soon after Harry joined them, serving the eggs to his relatives. Clark got up to help him but was stopped by Petunia Dursley's toothpick hand.

"Don't be silly Clark. You're our guest. Please, just sit and let Harry serve the eggs." Clark grudgingly sat back down. He'd already been a little rude to the family; he didn't want to make things worse. He did however make sure that Harry left plenty for himself in the pan, though it was obvious the Dursley's didn't like that. They didn't say anything though, much to Clark's amusement. His little lecture last night must have made some impression on them.

After Harry sat they all ate in silence for a few minutes before Petunia broke the ice.

"So, what do you like to do, Clark? I'm sure we can find somewhere that you'd like to visit. Do you do any sports," asked Aunt Petunia.

"Um, I don't really do sports, just watch them." Clark would have loved to play some sports, but he'd promised his dad that that was one thing he wouldn't do while he was gone.

"Perhaps you can go see a game with my husband and son then." Clark noticed she didn't bother mentioning Harry. He looked over at Harry to see his reaction and he looked a little disappointed that he wasn't mentioned, but not very. Maybe he could get Harry's relatives to bring him too.

"Sounds fun. You should really invite Harry too though." Vernon looked like he wanted to protest but he didn't say anything, just nodded.

"Fine then," Petunia tried to keep a smile on her face, changing the subject quickly. "Is there anything else you like to do, Clark? What did you usually do at home?"

"There's not much to do in Smallville, but I'd usually go to the Beanery with friends or help my friend Chloe with the Torch."

"Torch?"

"It's the school newspaper."

"Oh, are you a reporter?"

"I'm not that good, but Chloe says I have potential. Chloe's the real reporter of our group. Hardly anything gets by her."

"Perhaps then, you can give our Dudley here a few tips about the newspaper. We've been discussing his extra-curricular activities at Smeltings, and thought he'd do well with writing." Clark heard a choking sound coming from his right and looked to see Harry trying to hide his reddening face in his glass of orange juice as he tried not to laugh. Clark couldn't help smiling a little himself, but he turned back to Petunia.

"I'm sure I can show him a few things. I'm not an expert, but I'll try," Mrs. Dursley smiled and looked over at her son in a way that had Clark wanting to dispose of his already eaten breakfast. Could this boy be more spoiled? After a pause in the conversation, Clark turned to Dudley, grasping onto one part of the conversation he'd been a bit confused about. "So, Dudley what's Smeltings? Is that your school?"

The two male Dursleys seemed to puff up with pride (or from bloating, it was hard to tell when they were so large).

"Yes, my father went there before me. It's one of the most respectable schools in England."

"We were so proud when Dudley got accepted to Smeltings. Only the best enroll there." Vernon's enormous chest seemed to expand more with pride, if that was possible, as he looked at his equally large son.

"Must be very hard to get in then," Clark replied as he turned to face Harry. "Do you go there too Harry?" The Dursleys seemed to stiffen as their eyes darted to Harry to see what he would say. Curiosity grew in Clark; perhaps this had to do with what he'd seen hidden in the closet.

"Er, no I don't." Harry replied slowly as he glanced up at his uncle.

"Oh, where do you go then?"

"Er…"

"Harry goes to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys," Vernon quickly interrupted. Clark looked at him in surprise. Harry didn't look dangerous. "Isn't that right, Boy?"

"Er, yeah that's right. Broken lots of rules so they sent me there to straighten me up." That line from Harry just seemed so comical and how he seemed to try and roughen his voice to sound like a dangerous criminal, Clark couldn't help it.

He laughed.

The Dursley's looked at him in confusion, nearly frightened by this outburst from their guest. Harry looked like he was having a hard time keeping from laughing himself.

"My word," Petunia began with a flustered look on her face. "What on earth is so funny?"

"I'm sorry…. It's… just… Harry…. a criminal," Clark tried to piece his words together to make an intelligent phrase, but was having some difficulties through the laughter. Finally he took a deep breath and calmed down enough the finish. "I don't believe it."

"Well it's true. We suspect he got some of his behavior from that criminal godfather of his," Petunia replied in a sharp voice, but quickly clapped one of her thin hands over her mouth. She looked shocked at her own words, as she stared fearfully at her husband who had turned an interesting shade of maroon. Harry let out some of his laughter then and they looked at him.

"I'll be sure to tell him that in my next letter to him," Harry replied. The Dursleys paled and that was the end of their discussion. It was rather strange that they feared this godfather of Harry's. Clark spent the rest of breakfast wondering what he could have done that scared them so much.

Breakfast had been better than dinner, if that was possible. Harry hadn't had to prevent himself from laughing so much in his entire life. He was afraid he'd crack a rib if the conversation had continued like it was. Fortunately, one mention of Sirius and the Dursley's clamped up. They were all silent for the remainder of breakfast and Harry's mind managed to wander. Since the conversation had ended on Sirius, that's who he was thinking of now. He'd gotten a letter from him not too long ago. A large bird had delivered it. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but suspected it was from wherever Sirius was at the moment.

He hadn't gotten to reply to the letter and now realized he couldn't unless Sirius sent another bird since Hedwig was with the Weasley's. This would be nice so Harry could ensure that Sirius didn't worry, but then he'd have a lot to explain to Clark if the bird showed up at the wrong time.

After Harry was done eating he quickly ran upstairs, and making sure Clark would still be downstairs for awhile, he slipped under his bed to move the board and remove a few chocolates.

"Harry?" Harry was half-way out from under his bed when he heard Clark call his name. His head hit the frame as he jumped in surprise. Clark was really quiet when he wanted to be, and quick. Harry pulled himself out all the way from under his bed, grasping the chocolate in his hand. He thanked whoever was watching over him at this moment that he hadn't grabbed any of the charmed ones, as he stood back up, rubbed his head and looked guiltily at Clark. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Harry replied. "You just startled me that's all."

"What were you doing?" Clark moved further into the room, and sat on his bed.

"Oh, just getting my secret stash of sweets," Harry could feel a blush forming on his face as he held up his hand to show Clark. "The Dursley's had Dudley on a strict diet before you got here, and we all had to diet with him so I practically survived on treats my friends sent me. The food has improved since you got here, but not by that much for me."

Clark laughed, and Harry couldn't help smiling. He held out a few of the Honeydukes chocolates to Clark.

"Here, you can have some if you want. It'll probably be the best thing you'll get around here." Clark took a piece and thanked him, then took a bite out of it and seemed to be enjoying himself a lot. Nothing compared to wizarding candy (especially in strangeness) in Harry's opinion, so the look on Clarks' face was expected.

Once Clark finished his first piece he looked at Harry with a thoughtful shine in his eyes. Harry shuffled a little, wondering what he was staring at. After a moment of awkwardness, Clark spoke.

"Who's your godfather, the one your aunt was talking about?"

"Sirius Black. Everyone thinks he's a criminal."

"But he's not."

"No." Harry couldn't believe he was telling someone he hardly knew about his godfather. Clark just seemed like someone that you could trust though. It was strange, he almost seemed like he kept a few extraordinary secrets himself.

Clark took Harry's blunt answers in stride, and nodded. He believed what Harry was saying, and trusted the younger teen. It was almost like they had the similar "weight of the world" on their shoulders, and Clark found it easy to understand Harry though he'd just met him yesterday. "So, what does everyone think he did?"

Harry seemed hesitant as he leaned back on his bed and unwrapped another piece of chocolate. He didn't look away from the wrapper, as if he found something fascinating about how its design. "Can you keep a secret?"

Clark smiled, remembering what he'd said the last time someone asked him that, though it hadn't been in very bright circumstances. Forming the words in his mind, Clark found himself reciting them again. "I'm the Fort Knox of secrets." A smile flickered on Harry's face and he looked up to lock eyes with Clark for a brief moment.

"According to everyone else," Harry began with a sigh, getting up from his bed and going over to the window, to gaze at the street outside. "He was a murderer. Killed thirteen people, they say. There was…an explosion and the a….authorities found him there, laughing like a maniac."

"And you don't believe this?" Clark watched as Harry slowly turned around. His eyes were full of a fresh memory, a painful one too. He slowly shook his head.

"I've seen and heard the truth. Everyone thought he killed a certain man named Peter Pettigrew along with the rest of the people, but it wasn't true. Peter set off that explosion, he's the reason…" Harry paused, something dawning in his eyes. It looked almost like he feared what he was about to say.

"Reason for what, Harry?" Harry seemed to shake out of whatever thoughts he had with a jolt. With his eyes cast to the ground, he quickly moved to the door.

"Er, I should go see what Aunt Petunia wants me to do today. She'll be furious if I don't finish my chores before this evening." Harry rushed out of the room before Clark could protest. Clark just sat there for a moment, thinking over what he'd just heard from Harry. He believed everything Harry said about his godfather being innocent. Harry was still keeping things locked up tight though.

_Well what did you expect, Clark? Him to sit on a couch and spill out his entire life story to you, _Clark scolded himself. In a way, that's exactly what he'd been hoping. Clark wanted Harry to share his story with him, thinking that if he could just find one person with a secret like his then he could share his too. He'd tried this with others that he'd encountered that were affected by the meteor rocks, but those attempts had been unsuccessful or the person left. Now, he'd scared off another chance to not be alone in the weirdness of the world. He shouldn't have asked so quickly. Now he'd never gain Harry's entire trust and wouldn't be able to solve the mystery of the items under the stairs and Harry's bed.

With a sigh, Clark pushed himself up and off his bed. Mr. Dursley had mentioned taking him out with Dudley to some popular British site, and had said that they should leave soon to avoid traffic. He was tempted to go ask Harry if he wanted to come, but feared that he'd scared the other teen a little too much for the morning and didn't want to worsen it.

Would anything in his life ever go completely right?

Harry rushed downstairs, as soon as he exited his room. His list of chores was already set on the kitchen, longer than usual. Quickly grabbing it, he checked to see the first thing on the list before heading outside. He had to weed the back garden, one of his least favorite chores. But, at least it helped him avoid Clark for the moment.

He'd been stupid, he knew it. Why was he tempted so much to tell a complete stranger his secrets? Sure, Harry had altered the story a bit to a more muggle version one but he'd nearly told Clark about how his parents died. The Dursley's would have been furious if they'd heard even half of the conversation that went on between him and Clark.

Harry sighed, pulling on a particularly stubborn weed. He'd have to be more careful from now on. One slip and Clark may become suspicious. In the back of Harry's mind something was telling him that pouring out his feelings and secrets to Clark may not be such a bad idea though.

_What do you expect, Harry? _, Harry thought to him sarcastically,_ Just to come up to him one day and say, "Well, Clark you know that guy Peter Pettigrew? He's a wizard, and so am I and he was a servant of the monster that killed my parents. Oh, yeah and they were wizards too."_

Harry took out his frustration on a few weeds as he crushed them in his hands after yanking them roughly out of the ground. No, he couldn't do that. He'd probably scared Clark enough with tales of his godfather.

_He was listening though._

_Why would he want to listen, he was probably just trying to be polite._

Harry shook his head. If he kept thinking like this he'd never make any decisions. He focused instead on his chores, vaguely wondering if the weeds in this garden were in any way related to mandrakes. He could have sworn he heard a little squeak when he pulled out the last one.

A/N: Done! For now that is. Next chapter will probably be up as soon as this one's up actually. I plan on editing a lot at once.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Another chapter, and I hope you all like the new version of my story and if you've just stumbled across it, I still hope you enjoy it. Well, here you go. Let's see what happens next!

A/N 2: I should be pepped up enough to write a least a little decently on this chapter, just got done watching a few Smallville episodes so I'm probably going to be dreaming weird dreams as usual when I have too much of some story. Hey, has anyone noticed that in a lot of the episodes, when the scene cuts to Martha Kent she's taking something out of the oven or out of the fridge. Okay, just noticed that today, I'll let you get to the story and escape my weirdness… for now.

Chapter 3

It didn't take long for Clark and the two Dursley males to arrive where they were going. It turned out that the British site they decided to take him to happened to be a zoo. It wasn't something you couldn't find in Metropolis, but Clark figured it would be fun anyways.

They wandered through a few of the exhibits, stopped at an ice cream stand when Dudley finally persuaded his father to break his diet a little bit more, and watched a bird show. When they finally reached the reptile house, Clark was looking forward to it, but the Dursleys were not. Dudley looked very nervous and for some reason his hands were inching towards his excessively large bum to cover it, and Vernon had a slight twitch.

"If you guys don't want to go into the reptile exhibit, we don't have to."

"Oh, don't be silly. We'll just…uh…"

"I'll just go in by myself and we can meet up again back at that café we past. I'm sure it's nearly time for lunch." Dudley's ears pricked up at the word lunch, and Vernon looked relieved.

"All right. We'll see you there then. You do know the way, Clark?" Clark nodded and then waved to them as he entered the reptile exhibit.

Clark strolled through the building slowly, as he looked in at the different snakes and lizards and thought about how strange the Dursley's had acted. Perhaps they had a fear of snakes. If it was, it was a very bad case. Clark though, didn't see anything wrong with the things. Sure, he couldn't be hurt by them but he still didn't think they were that bad.

Something moved at the other corner of the room and Clark turned only catching sight of a medium sized creature rushing to hide in one of the darker corners of the reptile room. Shining, silver eyes looked at him from the shadows, and suddenly they were gone. He made his way over to the corner as fast as he could without going into super speed or making the few scattered people in the exhibit suspicious. When he reached it though, there were no traces that any creature had been there.

What was that thing?

After the mysterious creature disappeared from the building, Clark lost interest in the reptiles and decided to head back to the café. He was still brooding about whatever it was when they reached home and nearly ran into Harry in the hallway because of it. The shorter boy looked up at Clark as if he was the devil himself for a second and then his expression went nearly blank, though he still looked nervous. This boy must have had a lot of practice, he was nearly as good as Lex.

"Hey, Harry. I didn't see you there, sorry."

"Oh, no problem. I was just coming in from tending the garden and was, er, a little distracted myself." They both stood there for a moment, shifting their eyes everywhere except on each other before Clark broke the silence.

"I'm really sorry about earlier. I shouldn't have pried into your life." Harry opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a high shriek from the back yard. Harry spun around and rushed out the door that he'd just entered, with Clark right on his heels.

Petunia Dursley was standing in the middle of the yard, shaking and wide-eyed. She seemed to be starring into the shadows of her garden, but when Clark looked he didn't see anything there. Thumping came from behind them and Clark knew that Vernon must now be outside, and another lighter thud indicated that Dudley had followed.

"What is it Petunia?!" Clark turned to see that Dursley held a rifle in his hands and the twitch he had had at the reptile house was back. Petunia pointed a shaking finger at the bushes where she'd been starring.

"S-something ran into the bushes!" Vernon crept over to the bushes, a slight shake to his walk but determined to find what had scared his wife. He stuck the end of the gun into the leaves and parted them. Nothing was there. Dursley turned around to face his wife.

"You probably saw a cat, Petunia." Petunia roughly shook her head and looked at her husband.

"No, it was bigger than a cat… with silver eyes!" Clark stiffened when he heard this. That was what he saw at the zoo!

"Nonsense, you know that Miss Figg has a lot of strange cats. It was probably one of her odd breeds."

"Well… I suppose so. I… I hardly saw any of it; just dark fur and th-those eyes." Clark watched as Petunia turned and shakily made her way to the kitchen. She still seemed to be worried, though she had already said herself that it could have been just a cat. He had a gut feeling that whatever that was, it wasn't a cat. Or at least not your run of the mill kind of cat. One that could disappear that fast was NOT ordinary.

Turning to look at Harry, once Clark managed to pull himself out of his thoughts, he caught the sight of Harry pulling his hand out from his jacket. This struck Clark as odd so, concentrating, he switched to x-ray vision to see what Harry was grabbing onto. Clarks' confusion increased as he saw that what Harry must have been reaching in for had only been a stick with a handle. Was that…a wand?

A/N: I could so finish this chapter like this, but I'm not going to! J

Harry finally noticed Clark staring at him and smiled nervously.

"I guess there's nothing to worry about." Clark seemed to jolt out of his thoughts, but he managed to smile.

"Uh, yeah," Again there was silence as the two boys were left alone in the backyard.

"Before, er Clark, I was going to say… Well, it's all right. I'm just not that open about my past usually." A friendly smile appeared on Clark's face and Harry felt relief wash over him.

"Whatever is in your past Harry, I'm sure I would understand. We all have pasts."

_Yeah, but mine's the worst of all._

"You wouldn't want to hear mine, believe me." A light laugh came from Clark and he shook his head.

"Well if you ever want to tell me about it, we can swap stories and compare," Clarks' face then changed to a serious expression and he looked Harry straight in the eye. "But really Harry, if you need someone to talk to, I'll understand anything you want to tell me."

"Thanks for the offer… We should go in now. I still have some chores to do and I heard that my uncle wants to show you some trophies he got when he went to Smeltings." Clark laughed when Harry rolled his eyes and they both made their way inside.

It was already afternoon and nearing evening, so Harry was soon scolded by Aunt Petunia and swept into doing kitchen duties so she could prepare dinner. Harry didn't complain as she added more to his list, but got straight to work. It would give him some time to think on the events of the day. First his conversations with Clark, and then that creature that they had encountered would be plaguing his thoughts the entire evening. He was sure it wasn't a normal cat (perhaps not even a cat at all) and he had a strange suspicion that Clark knew that too. The look on his face when Aunt Petunia had described it was enough to convince Harry of that.

What was it doing in his backyard though? He had heard that sometimes when a wizard or witch lived in one place for long enough, they could attract magical creatures to them. He'd have to check his school books to find out what it was, which meant that Harry would be sneaking downstairs that night and getting his Care of Magical Creatures book. Hermione would be proud to see him opening his books up for more than school work.

This thought brought a smile to his face as he scrubbed a few dishes. He missed his friends and Hogwarts. Harry was already counting down the days until he could get away from his relatives and with his friends. He hoped it would be sooner than the start of school though. Life at the Dursleys' had changed for the better when Clark had arrived but Harry still couldn't stand them.

"Hurry up boy. I need those dishes tonight!" Harry sighed as his Aunt's shrilling voice broke into his thoughts. He scrubbed faster and quickly dried off all of the wet dishes. His time to think was over for the moment, but he'd start his research as soon as Clark was asleep. He hoped Clark wasn't a light sleeper.

A/N: Can anyone guess what the creature may have been? Well if anyone can get close to what I have planned, I'll dedicate the chapter with the creature's identity reavealed in it to that person. It'll be hard, and even if you have the right place to look you'll probably only get it half right. Believe me, this beast just sprung out of nowhere when I wrote it into the plot line. Sorry if the chapter was a bit shorter than the others, I still have lots of stuff for you to see in upcoming chapters, but schools going to be in my way for awhile. So bear with me!

I'm going to dedicate this chapter to that silver-eyed beast that made my story oh so much better. Mé placet té cognoscere et grátiás!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Next chapter, I hope you enjoy! Oh, and I seem to have had a few guesses in my reviews (which I enjoyed very much by the way). My lips are sealed until my little friend is revealed though. Remember the closest guess to what my creature is, gets that chapter dedicated to them.

CantonJohn- I'm glad that my crossover caught your eye.

Angelkitty77- Thank you! Oh, and Sirius has blue eyes? I really need to pay more attention…

Jake Paul- The question to your answer is very soon, sooner than you think. Thanks for the review!

Memet- I'm glad I made you a fan happy dance

Nightwing 509- Thanks and your guess was very creative, we'll see if you're anywhere close once I get to that chapter!

Mitchell- Good guess, your review really made my day. I was all smileys (yes, smileys) for the rest of the day after I'd read it.

Jasi- I see I have an old reader still reading. Thanks, I was afraid no one would like the new version.

**A/N 2: As you might have noticed, I'm no longer Freelance-Roguewriter. I decided I would be Sherwoods-GreenLady from now on. Sorry if I confused anyone because of that.**

Chapter 4

Harry had crept down that night once everyone was asleep in the house. A noise that sounded suspiciously like a snore was coming from his Care of Magical Creature's book when he got it out and stroked its spine. Harry then opened it up reassured that it wouldn't try and bite him. He didn't go upstairs though. He couldn't risk Clark finding him with a book like that in his hands. Instead, he settled down on top of his trunk and began flipping through the pages. That's how it was for nearly an hour until Harry finally gave up his search. Nothing in the book mentioned anything about a silver-eyed beast of that size.

He sighed and picked himself back up from the top of his trunk. Perhaps it was what Uncle Vernon had said, a strange cat of Miss Figgs. With a sense of frustration at the lack of knowledge his nightly escapade provided, Harry put away his book and headed upstairs to try and sleep for the remaining hours of the night. He'd have to worry about the creature later, perhaps with Hermione and Ron's help, but right now he needed to get into bed before Clark woke up and found him missing.

As Harry made his way up the stairs something shifted upstairs. He paused with a foot hovering over the next step. It sounded like it was coming from his and Clarks' room. Maybe Clark was awake and saw his empty bed. He'd have to make an excuse now. Harry began to slowly make his way up to his room once again, but when he nearly reached the top a loud thump came from his room accompanied by something wooden breaking.

Panicking, Harry reached for his wand and ran into his room to see what happened. His jaw dropped when he came upon the situation in room.

(A few minutes before)

Clark was standing in a dark abyss. This had to be a dream, was the first thought to pop into his head. Nothing was visible around him, just blackness. He stood there for awhile, wondering why he was dreaming this when something shone in the distance. It was a small, silver light. Wasn't it? He strained to look closer and right beside the seemingly floating orb, another one appeared. They were eyes. The two glowing eyes stared at him with a sharp intelligence in them. Clark tried to move towards them, but he never seemed to get any closer. Finally, he gave up his fruitless attempts and stood still, just looking at the two eyes in confusion.

"Who are you…What are you?" The eyes shined dangerously from the darkness, narrowing to slits.

"Watch yourself this year, young one. Danger awaits those who stick their noses into it." The creatures' soft, high-pitched voice echoed on the unseen walls of wherever Clark was.

"You haven't answered my questions, and what dangers?"

"You will see. Trust your new friend though. He is strong and will be a great ally." The glowing eyes then disappeared and Clark was left once again in the darkness.

"Ally for what?!" Clark didn't get an answer except for the floor to be suddenly absent underneath him. He still couldn't see anything around him, but he knew he was falling far. In his desperation he was wishing very hard that he could fly right about now, and that's when he felt himself collide with something. Instead of his back hitting anything as he expected, he felt himself roughly pushed into something in front of him.

This didn't feel like a dream anymore, so slowly he opened his eyes to see nothing but white in front of his eyes. It took him a moment to realize that it was the ceiling. Clark's eyes widened in surprised once this realization came to him and before he could look down at his obviously floating body, gravity kicked in again. He came down with a resounding crash as he felt the bed beneath him break in several places.

He just laid there for a moment with his eyes squeezed shut. This was going to take a lot of explaining.

"What in Merlin's beard?!" Clark resisted the urge to groan. He slowly opened his eyes to look up at Harry, who was looking very surprised as he starred down at the broken bed. Clark decided his best option was to act dumb. He started to get up from the bed, faking soreness as if the fall would have actually hurt him. Skillfully weaving a mask of confusion as he got up, he looked at Harry who was looking from him to the bed with one of his hands in his pocket.

"Uh, what happened?"

"What happened? You tell me what happened!" There was a commotion out in the hall and Vernon Dursley came barging in with a rifle in his hands.

"What's going on?!" Vernon finally noticed the broken bed and looked up at Harry with a purple face. "What did you do boy?!" Harry scowled and opened his mouth to protest.

"I didn't do a thing. I wasn't even up here when it happened," he said firmly and angrily.

"Then where were you?" Harry seemed to suddenly see his mistake in words and opened his mouth several time, trying to fix what he'd said. Vernon didn't give him time to explain himself though. Instead, he turned to Clark with a nervous look on his face. "I'm sorry Clark this must be one of my nephews' pranks. He's a troubled boy, I told you, and must have thought it would be funny to saw the beds legs so they would break."

"But…"

"Quiet boy, I have a few things to say to you later!"

"Mr. Dursley, this isn't Harry's fault. I'm sure I must have just shifted wrong in my sleep that's all." Though leaving the blame on Harry would have evaded Clark of a few questions, he didn't want him in trouble. Harry hadn't done anything and even if he did lie, he would only keep the Dursley's eyes off him and Harry would have probably hated him and been more suspicious. This way brought minimal damage to the whole situation.

Vernon Dursley seemed to relax at Clark's statement, and Harry was just staring at him intently. He was probably due for an interrogation once Harry could get him alone. Mr. Dursley seemed to think that some punishment was in order though, and locked onto the last thing he could.

"Very well then, but I still want to know what you were doing out of bed Harry." Harry had managed to school his features by the time Vernon brought the conversation back to him and shifted his gaze from Clark to his uncle.

"Oh, I was just getting a drink, couldn't sleep." Vernon's beady eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he didn't say anything. He just made a low "harrumph", blowing his mustache in the process and exited the small room taking his rifle with him.

Harry only waited a minute after his uncle left before he turned to Clark with a determined gleam in his eyes. Clark took note that the younger teens hand was still in his pocket and guessed that was where his wand was currently stowed.

"What really happened, Clark?" Clark shrugged, trying to keep as casual as he could.

"Don't know. Maybe that wood couldn't take my weight anymore. My mom always says I'd eat us out of house and home if she wasn't there to stop me." Harry didn't laugh as Clark was hoping he would. He just looked at Clark with confusion on his face.

"I guess so…" He kept the sentence hanging for a moment as if he wanted to say something more, but changed his mind. "We should get dressed. Breakfast will be soon. You can use the toilet first." Clark nodded, thanking for this hiatus in the questioning but knowing he hadn't seen the last of it. He then grabbed some clothes and headed for the bathroom.

(--------------------------------------------------------)

Harry watched Clark as he closed the door to the toilet. He'd thought there was something different about Clark, but now with… well, whatever happened up here he was starting to wonder how different he was. Now he was starting to wish he had some way to communicate with Dumbledore. If anyone knew about unsolved mysteries it was him. Harry sighed as he grabbed a change of clothes. The fact that he wasn't going to be contacting Dumbledore any time soon was going to bug him for hours, and he didn't get any sleep that night. This was going to be a long day…

**A/N: I'll stop there for now. I know it's short. But it's better than nothing and since I just started newspaper at my school, I'm feeling claustrophobic about deadlines. I hate them, which is probably why I haven't tried newspaper until now. So, don't kill me if I don't update for awhile.**


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I'm very happy with the reviews I got. Reviews Happiness wanting to write. I just realized the irony in the fact that in my last note I mentioned that I'm claustrophobic about deadlines. One of the pieces I'm working on in newspaper is Phobias. You wouldn't believe the wacky phobias out there. Okay, back to my story!

Nightwing 509- Thank you, I'm glad you like my new character.

Mitchell – Once again, you've got me smiling. I'd kiss you if I could, lol. I even went back to read your review a couple more times when my day started going downhill.

Jake Paul- Thanks, see I updated very soon.

Alethianess- You noticed that too? I was going through my last chapter after I'd posted it and my jaw dropped when I saw that. I was thinking, how did that get there?! My mind said clothes but my fingers said otherwise. Believe me though, there's now a dent in my wall where I was pounding my head in my stupidity and I went back and changed that.

Red Jeanie- Thanks. Mystery, really? I can write mysteriously, yes!

ForeverTom- Thank goodness, I thought I'd at least get a few virtual tomatoes thrown at me if not killed for making people wait. Of course, I'm actually not making them wait that long for this chapter, which surprised me.

Me- Thanks for your enthusiastic review! Made me smile.

DeadZoneFern- Thanks for the suggestion. I was unsure about that myself actually.

"The real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else" (Umberto Eco).

Chapter 5

It had in fact, been a VERY long day. The only thing that kept Harry going was the thoughts running through his brain, which were in turn driving him insane. He just needed some way to communicate with another wizard or witch, preferably his friends. First the silver-eyed animal shows up and now he had a broken bed in his room that Clark wasn't telling the truth about.

That made Harry's thoughts pause.

Were they connected some how? No, that was silly. Clark was just a normal teen muggle… wasn't he?

Harry cursed his thoughts for doing this to him. Now he had another thing to keep him confused and frustrated. He was definitely going to go insane soon if he couldn't get away for awhile.

"Harry, get back to work with those plants!" Harry blinked, his eyes focusing onto the ground in front of him. He had paused from working, he realized, when his thoughts had distracted him. When he looked behind him he saw Aunt Petunia at the back door with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face.

"Sorry Aunt Petunia!" She didn't reply, just went back into the house after giving him a sharp look. Harry sighed and stooped to pick up the hose that had fallen from his hands. After this he'd have to go back inside and dust in the living room, which happened to be where Clark was currently.

Dudley had pulled him in there before the teen could protest to show him a few things from his school and to wait for his friends to come over. Harry felt great sympathy for him already. Being in a room with one thick-headed boy was enough, but now there was going to be four once Dudley's friends showed up. He was hoping he'd be able to avoid the idiots himself while they were over, but he'd done everything outside of the living room already and Aunt Petunia would box his ears if he didn't do all his chores before dinner.

Harry turned off the hose once he'd watered all the plants and coiled it back up. As he turned back to the house, his shoulders slouched in anxiousness at what would now face him. Dudley's friends were probably already there, and ready to do whatever they wanted to him.

_Well, here goes nothing…_, Harry thought as he walked towards the house, beginning to hear gruff laughter inside.

XXXXXXXXXX

Clark was trying to keep himself from pounding his head against a nearby wall as he sat in the middle of two younger teens, laughing at some joke Dudley told that wasn't really that funny. Mostly because it would probably leave more than just a dent in the wall, and also that he was trying to remain polite.

When Harry came in though, he felt like shouting for joy. He desperately needed an intelligent person to talk to after all the stupid, half-formed phrases he'd been surrounded by all day. Harry didn't look like he was in the mood for conversation though. He seemed to be trying to go unnoticed as much as possible as he went over to the fireplace with a dust rag in hand.

Unfortunately, Harry's attempts at invisibility were in vain since one of the many idiots in the room looked up. Clark had given up trying to remember their names long ago and had resorted to labeling them as Idiot 1, 2, and 3. This one was Idiot 2 and he had a very unpleasant smile on his lips; much like a bulldog's lopsided grin. This was not good.

"Hey, look. It's our favorite punching bag." This got the attention of everyone else in the room. Evil grins appeared on the two other idiots' faces and Dudley smiled also, though his grin was a bit nervous.

"Yeah, he's just dusting. Just ignore him." Idiot 2 didn't seem to want to do that though.

"Oh come on Dudley. Let's show Clark what's fun around here." This was Idiot 1 now. He stood up and was moving towards where Harry was.

"Beating up Harry isn't that fun. L-let's play some video games instead." Idiot 1 stopped and looked back at Dudley.

"What's the matter Dudley? Lost your nerve or something?" Dudley looked as if he wanted to say something, but refrained himself. The three boys chuckled and looked at Harry who was currently looking at them with worried eyes.

"How 'bout it Clark? Want to throw the first punch? It's really fun." Idiot 1 looked back at Clark with a sickly grin on his face still. Clark scowled though. Polite time was over.

"No."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Harry looked around Dudley's friend when he heard Clark reply. Clark's eyes seemed to have darkened in the few seconds he'd been in there. It was obvious he was angry, and Harry didn't know if this was a good thing or bad. Being the idiots his cousins' friends were though, they ignored what Clark said.

"Then I guess we'll have to have our own fun then." The boy already standing up advanced on Harry and he raised a fist up, planning on punching him right in the face. Harry was about ready to dodge with his Seeker-honed reflexes as the fist was coming down, but it stopped in midair.

The boy's beady eyes blinked in confusion as he starred stupidly at his own fist and then finally looked behind him. Harry looked too and saw an angry Clark holding onto the younger teen's arm.

"I said no."

"Bugger off, I'm trying to have some fun here!"

"You call this fun? I can't believe you'd do this to Harry." Clark's voice was starting to rise to a dangerous volume. This didn't seem to scare the boy, instead it annoyed him.

"Stay out of this before you get hurt, Yank!" A wince soon crossed over the boy's arrogant face though as Clark's grip tightened on his arm.

"I've lifted bales of hay bigger than you. Do you really think you could take me?"

"What's going on in here? Clark, Dudley, is everything all right?" Aunt Petunia stood at the entrance to the living room looking worried. She must have heard the shouts from the kitchen since she still had her apron on and an oven mitt on one of her hands. Dudley's friend pulled his arm and Clark released him, though it seemed he probably could have held him still. He muttered something under his breath and gestured to the two other boys in the room to follow him.

"We were just leaving. By Dudley, Clark." The three boys left, but not before glaring murderously at Clark who returned the glare with equal dislike. Dudley quickly left the room too, looking nervous as he scurried past Clark.

Harry was expecting Clark to calm down as soon as they all left but he didn't seem any more relaxed than he was before. In fact he was starting to sweat which was really strange considering the temperature in the room. He was turned away from Harry at the moment though, so he couldn't see his face.

"Clark, you all right?" Clark's shoulders shook and his hands went up to his eyes. Aunt Petunia rushed up to him and placed a hand on top of his shoulders while the other one checked the temperature of his forehead. Her eyes grew wide.

"He's burning up! Harry, call for an ambulance!"

"No," Clark's strained voice came from his now stooped figure, "I just need some air." He rushed out of the room and headed for the backyard. Harry followed close behind, worried about Clark's condition. What was wrong with him? He was fine a minute ago.

Clark stumbled towards the middle of the yard before he stopped, hands pressed to his temples.

"Clark, wha…" Harry stopped in mid-sentence as Aunt Petunia's favorite rose bush burst into flames right in front of Clark. He starred at it stupidly for a while before a thought registered in his brain. There was a fire, and he was just standing there like an idiot instead of putting it out. He hurried towards the hose he'd used earlier and turned the knob. Turning around, he hurried towards the burning plant and was about to dowse it with water when he halted.

It was hard to see through the flames, but there it was. Flames reflected in silver eyes, but nothing else was visible except shadows. Harry stared at the creature for a moment in confusion. Then, they were gone along with the flames on the bush. Harry continued staring at the now black bush before he finally pulled himself away to look at Clark.

Clark was staring at the bush with shock evident on his eyes. Harry also saw his gaze shifted a little towards where the creature had once been. He didn't look sick anymore and he wasn't holding his head like earlier; just staring.

"Er, Clark?" Clark jolted out of his thoughts and looked at Harry, his eyes wide and confused.

"Um, wh-what just happened?" He sounded tired as he rubbed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair.

"I thought maybe you could tell me."

"I don't know what happened." Clark quickly turned around and went back into the house, without another word. Harry stayed in the back yard though. He stared back at the bush and then at where Clark once stood. It didn't make any sense. Was it Clark or the animal that caused the fire? It seemed as if Clark didn't know what happened…

_Maybe it's never happened before. _The thought suddenly rose in his mind but for some reason it made sense. Didn't it?

Harry was going around in circles again, he knew it. He needed to slow down and think about this later. Right now he needed to make sure Clark was all right.

XXXXXXX

Clark was NOT all right. He'd rushed upstairs passing by a worried Mrs. Dursley as soon as he'd been shaken out of his first shock by Harry. He blindly went over to the window in his and Harry's room and stared without seeing out into the darkening sky outside. He didn't look down though, that was where the back yard was and the burnt bush.

He'd started that fire. He didn't even know how! One minute he was trying to cool down after that jerk tried to punch Harry and the next he felt like he was burning up. Now there was a burnt bush in the back yard, that thing with the silver eyes had shown up again and he had no way to explain it all; not even to himself! To add top it all, Harry saw everything and was probably even more suspicious than he was that morning. So much for keeping his secrets like he promised.

"Clark?" Clark didn't look around to see who it was. He could tell Harry was probably staring at him with confusion right now.

"I don't know what happened, Harry."

"I know that. I just wanted to see how you were doing." Clark finally turned around to look at Harry. He did look a little confused but there was sincere concern in his eyes. "And I just wanted to say…well, I'm here for you to er, talk to. I never offered you that yesterday when we were talking."

Clark felt the corners of his mouth twitch and a smile came unbidden to his face. He let it grow and he stepped towards Harry.

"Thanks Harry."

"No problem, it's the least I can do for you keeping that git off of me tonight." Clark nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, Idiot 1."

"What?"

"Oh," Clark looked at Harry sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders. "I kind of forgot their names and just called them Idiot 1, 2, and 3." Harry burst into a fit of laughter and Clark found himself soon joining him.

"I should have thought of that years ago," Harry gasped finally when his laughs subsided. A knock came from the doorway behind them and both teens turned around to see Petunia Dursley peering into the room nervously.

"Is everything all right now, Clark? You rushed up here so fast. Is your fever gone?"

"I'm fine actually," then Clark suddenly remembered the burnt bush and guilt shown on his face. "Um, Mrs. Dursley I need to tell you about your rose bush…"

"My rose bush? Did you throw up dear, because that can always be rinsed off." Clark was really going to regret telling her this. He didn't even know how he was going to explain it.

"No, I…"

"I burnt your bush, Aunt Petunia."

XXXXXXX

"What?!"

"What?" Aunt Petunia was staring at Harry with rage filling her eyes and Clark was looking at him in sheer confusion. Harry didn't care though. He didn't want Clark to get in trouble for this, so there was only one way. Blame it on the M word… Magic. After all, what else could he blame it on? A rare case of plant combustion… or aliens? He could see how that would turn out, and shivered to think of the punishment that would follow. Either way, magic was what he was writing it off as. He just didn't understand how that was possible at the moment.

"It was, well, an accident you see. I didn't mean to do it really." Harry stared pointedly at his aunt and her eyes widen to the size of saucers once she understood. Her face paled and she quickly turned to Clark.

"Clark if you'll just excuse us for a moment," her voice was clipped and sharp as she quickly grabbed Harry's arm. "Come with me boy!" Clark started to move forward, looking worried and confused about what was going on but Harry held up a hand to stop him.

"Just stay here Clark." Clark still looked worried, but he did what Harry told him. Harry was then practically dragged down the stairs by his aunt and into the back yard. She took one look at the burnt bush and her lips thinned to a white line. Finally, she released his arm and pointed a finger at him.

"You did magic outside of that dreadful school of yours! You may have gotten away with it last time, but you'll be expelled for sure this time. What on earth happened?!"

"I didn't do it!"

"You just said that you did!" Harry looked up at the window to his room and saw Clark standing there. Moving his aunt over to a corner, he continued their conversation in a hush tone.

"I think it was that silver-eyed beast you saw yesterday." If it was at all possible, Aunt Petunia went even paler than before.

"What was it?"

"I don't know yet." Aunt Petunia stared for a moment and then spoke in a strict voice.

"Vernon and Dudley are not to hear of this." She then moved towards the back door and with out turning around she continued. "Dig up that bush and throw it in the garbage."

Harry looked at his Aunt as she entered the house. This was confusing. One minute she's yelling and the next telling him not to tell his uncle and cousin about what happened. He quickly followed her into the kitchen where she was shakily pulling something out of the oven and setting it on he counter.

"Why are you acting like this?"

"Because," she turned around to face him. "I want to forget that you just told me that. I don't want to be mixed up with your, your kind! Now go dig up that bush!" She turned back to tending to dinner and Harry sighed, turning around towards the door to do what she said. Before he was all the way through the doorway, she called to him.

"And dinner is in twenty minutes. Be back inside and washed up before then so Vernon won't know."

"Yes Aunt Petunia." He then continued out into the night, his mind full of new and confusing thoughts once again.

A/N: I have NO idea where that just came from. I just got back from a snow trip at about three and started writing. I thought it would be awhile until the next chapter, but look at that, I've got a chapter. I'm still a little zoned out though, so it's up to you readers to tell me if I'm crazy for writing this or not. Oh, and I know according to Smalliville Clark started fires with his eyes at first because, well, he was thinking about sex. I figured, he's not going to be in any situation in this AU to be thinking about that any time soon, so I've changed it to anger. So I'm just going to go duck behind my virtual umbrella in anticipation for those virtual tomatoes now, bye.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hey, I have really liked the reviews I'm getting. Sorry if I've driven anyone mad this past couple weeks. I've been lazy, reluctant, and frustrated. I just looked at fanfiction before I posted this and if I'd posted this tomorrow, it would have been exactly a month since I last updated. But I'm not waiting another minute. So, here's the chapter… FINALLY.

Disclaimer: I just realized that I haven't put one of these on my story yet. I do not currently, and will not in the near future (maybe later in life if I had all the money in the world. Note the sarcasm) own either Smallville or Harry Potter. They belong to their creators, not me.

Chapter 6 (THE REVEALING)

The bush was quickly dug up and discarded in the garbage and Harry just barely managed to run upstairs and wash up before Uncle Vernon came back from work. He did look suspiciously at him when he hurried into the kitchen, but he usually did that anyways.

When Clark came down he looked confused. He started to open his mouth to ask Harry something, but Harry gave him a look that meant "not right now." He promptly shut his mouth then and didn't attempt to ask any questions throughout the entire meal.

Every one was very silent the entire time, all caught up in their own thoughts. Uncle Vernon looked confused and tried to start several conversations, but everything would soon fall into silence again. The casserole that Aunt Petunia had made was slightly burnt, but still good. Everyone used this excuse to have their mouths full as much as possible when Vernon tried to ask questions. The awkward silence eventually seemed to be too much for Uncle Vernon though. He roughly set his cup of tea down as his face turned a light shade of purple.

"What is going on here! Why is everyone so quiet?"

"N-Nothing dear. We're just very tired tonight. Isn't that right boys?" Aunt Petunia looked around at them shakily and they all quickly nodded in agreement. Uncle Vernon narrowed his eyes, looking around at everyone at the table.

"Are you sure nothing's going on? Nothing…happened?" Harry had a feeling that pause was supposed to have the word "magic", or "strange" in it by the way his uncle looked at Aunt Petunia. She seemed to have inserted the same word too, since her face paled slightly. Her hands shook as she reached for her glass and she briskly shook her head.

"Nothing happened, dear. Nothing at all." Uncle Vernon seemed to relax visibly, and Aunt Petunia seemed to also when she saw he was beginning to believe her.

"Alright then, what's made you all so tired tonight then?" Uncle Vernon looked around at all of them enquiringly. "Clark, anything exciting today? I believe Dudley was planning to introduce you to his friends, correct?"

"Yes," Clark's gaze darkened, probably thinking about what happened earlier. "They were over for awhile."

"Ah, good then you're getting to know people here. Perhaps I should introduce you to my boss. After all, he was the one you were to stay with originally." Clark smiled politely and nodded his head.

"Sounds great," Clark continued after a moments pause. "I was actually hoping that I might look around town too; you know, site seeing." Uncle Vernon seemed delighted as he listened to Clark.

"What a splendid idea! Tomorrow is Saturday so we can all go." Harry's full attention was on the conversation now; even Dudley was distracted from his food. Getting out of the house sounded great to Harry's restless mind. Harry hadn't gone anywhere since he'd gotten back from Hogwarts and the house was seeming smaller every day.

"Sounds good," Clark replied. "I should probably get some rest now." Clark bid everyone goodnight and hurried up the stairs. Harry was going to follow soon after but Aunt Petunia stopped him at the stairs.

"Harry, finish your chores." Harry groaned inwardly. He didn't make any verbal protests though and slowly went back to the kitchen to wash dishes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The polite smile Clark had worn at the dinner table disappeared as he went upstairs. In its place was a confused frown as he entered the room he shared with Harry and sat on the end of his now shorter bed. They didn't have any way to repair it so Mr. Dursley had chopped off the legs so Clark still had a bed to sleep in.

Clark looked back at the bed and then over at the window. Everything was becoming very confusing. He didn't even know if he could go to his parents with all of this right now. The fact that he was now shooting fire from his eyes would have his parents sending him back home in a heartbeat and he wasn't ready to do that yet. The truth would come out eventually though. The animal though… he wasn't sure. This wasn't something that happened usually. People with strange abilities he'd seen before and handled, but a talking animal? Who was he supposed to mention that to that could give him an answer?

_Harry. _

Harry? Why were his thoughts suddenly turning to Harry for all of the answers?

Clark's gaze drifted to Harry's bed, his thoughts coming back to what was hidden under there. Maybe that was why. If Harry was what he thought he was, he'd understand right?

His thoughts turned to the conversation he'd tried to overhear before dinner. He'd only managed to hear the part that moved into the kitchen, but from what he'd heard Clark knew they'd been talking about more than just a simple burnt bush. His aunt didn't seem to like whatever they'd discussed either. The entire family didn't really seem to like Harry in fact.

Things began to click into place in Clark's mind. The fear in the relatives eyes, all the nervous glances and Vernon Dursley so upset when the bed was broken. They didn't like the fact that Harry was different; that he was magical or whatever the items beneath his bed meant. Either way, Harry was keeping a secret probably as big as his own. Clark was beginning to think that they really weren't that different at all. Except that Harry didn't have the support he had from parents. _This _fact though, may not be a good thing in the end. Clark had seen those people that were affected by the meteor rocks turn bad because they didn't have love from their parents. Would it be the same for Harry?

In any case, Clark didn't know what he could do if Harry was to change. He wasn't going to be here for long and the time he had left wouldn't be able to affect Harry's view on life enough. So what could he do?

Clark mentally shrugged and got up from his bed and moved to one of the drawers of the dresser that contained his clothes. He'd have to think about it in the morning. It was getting late and he hadn't gotten that much sleep the other night since he'd had that peculiar dream and been woken up at an early hour, floating.

He got ready for bed quickly, and then lay down in his now stunted bed to sleep hoping that he wouldn't be disturbed that night by a dream again.

XXXXXXXXX

Harry climbed into bed without bothering to change. He was exhausted with the work he had done and he never had a chance to sleep the previous night. He was asleep before his head could touch the pillow, and already pulled into a deep sleep and dreaming.

XXXXXXXX

Clark's wishes weren't to be so easily granted, he realized as he found himself in a dark abyss once again.

"It seems you need more help than I thought." Clark spun around as the voice spoke. He now faced the glowing silver eyes, and they looked annoyed.

"What are you talking about?"

"The burning bush, young one. I had assumed that you had control of all your abilities but it would seem I was… wrong." Clark's eyes widened and he backed up a little.

"So… I did start that fire." The creature gave a snort from the darkness, blinking its eyes a few times.

"Of course you started that fire, and I had to put it out. When I…" the creature paused and looked at Clark. "Never mind, no point in complaining. The council will heed none of it." Clark looked at the silver eyes in confusion. What was it talking about? What council? The beast seemed to notice his confusion and sighed.

"Ignore what I've said about any council for now. At the moment we need to worry about this fire issue…" Clark cut the creature off, which didn't seem to go well with it since it emitted a deep growl.

"I want some answers, who are you? What are you?"

"That," it began curtly, its growl continuing on into its' high voice. "Is something that will be explained in due time. If you will just listen, this can go faster!" Clark kept silent and the creature gave a snort before continuing.

"Now, as I was saying. You will need to be taught a few things…"

"I can handle it myself." The silver eyes narrowed and Clark started to regret speaking up.

"Yes, I'm sure you burnt that bush quite well on your own," the silver eyes suddenly looked off for a moment, eventually focusing again but seeming more annoyed than before. "I've spent too much time with you tonight. Morning is nearing and the council calls. I must go."

"But I just…"

"Time is irrelevant in a dream, young one. Good bye!" Clark once again felt the falling sensation, and foolishly tried to move upward again. Before he knew it, the front of him hit an object and his senses came back to him. Opening his eyes again, he found the world to be nothing but blurred white.

He groaned and closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable fall.

"Clark?" Clark's eyes shot open a split second before gravity took over, and he came down with a large crash.

XXXXX

(a/n: it's time for Harry's vision. I don't want to write the entire thing out though 'cause a) it's long and b) you've all read it if you're reading this or at least I hope you have so there's no need, right?)

Harry jolted awake from a terrible nightmare. He lay in his bed, panting and clasping his forehead where his lightning bolt scar seemed to burn like it had only just been seared into his skin. After a moment he reached out in the dark room with one hand to grab his glasses and shove them on his face. He tried to remember what he was dreaming about. It seemed to be difficult, but he remembered knowing someone in the dream; perhaps two?

He thought harder and the image of a dark room popped to the surface of his mind. Yes, there were three people. One, he didn't know and the others were… Harry's thoughts darkened as he thought of the two other people. Peter Pettigrew, also known by the name of Wormtail, and Voldemort.

For a few minutes he stared in front of him, thinking about the dream and rubbing his forehead. His eyes drifted to Clark's bed. It was empty. Harry's brow creased in confusion. Wasn't it a little early to be up? He found his answer though, when he looked up. Harry's jaw dropped as he stared at his floating room mate.

The first thought to run through his mind was that he'd done magic. He had been having a rough dream… But why hadn't Clark come down as soon as he'd woken up then? Another idea came to his mind and Harry looked around the room carefully.

"Dobby?" No answer. What was going on? A movement caught Harry's eye and he looked back up to see Clark floating a little higher until he collided with the ceiling. Confusion increased ten-fold and Harry quickly grabbed his wand and stood up, aiming it towards Clark. Then, almost hesitantly, he spoke.

"Clark?" For a second it was if there were a deep breathe being held; like the one you held before taking a sudden plunge on the carts at Gringotts. In this case, it wasn't the sudden drop of a cart but Clark's body which collided with the bed beneath him with a very loud (and painful looking) crash.

Clark just lay there for several minutes and Harry was tempted to check for a pulse. He moved though, slowly getting up from the bed which was broken once again. At the same moment, something thumped in the hallway and Harry knew Uncle Vernon was about to come in. Harry panicked as he realized how this picture looked; him with a wand out and the broken bed. He didn't have time to do anything with it though. The door began to open and Harry's panic increased as he moved to stuff the wand in his pocket, but realized he didn't have on his jeans. Again, his panic increased until it was replaced with shock and confusion as his wand disappeared from his hand.

Uncle Vernon came fully into the room then, brandishing his rifle like a baseball bat and face as purple as a plum. Harry didn't take notice of him for a moment, as he was distracted by the sudden absence of his wand. As soon as that mustached whale started shouting though, his full attention was on the scene around him again.

"What in the blazes is going on!" Uncle Vernon then saw the bed and his face darkened to a deep royal purple. He waved a sausage finger in the air and made a few unintelligible noises before making out some words. "Once… Once can be explained as normal, but twice! Boy, what have you been doing!"

"I didn't do anything! Honest!"

"Where is that… thing of yours!" Uncle Vernon glanced over at Clark for a brief moment, but turned his rage filled eyes back to Harry. Harry glanced at Clark too, noticing that he had a thoughtful look on his face.

_What's he__ thinking about, _Harry thought to himself. _And why was he floating?_

Harry was certain the floating incident had nothing to do with him by now. He doubted if that dream had triggered his magic, it would have just levitated one person. So, one conclusion was made. Clark. Harry didn't have time now to think over it all though. Right now, he'd have to deny, deny, deny. Which meant turning his thoughts back to his raging uncle for the moment.

"I don't have it!" "It" was his wand and that was true. He didn't even know where it was at the moment which was both good and bad. Good, because Uncle Vernon probably wouldn't be able to find it and bad since he wouldn't be able to find it himself and had no idea what happened in the first place. Uncle Vernon wasn't going to take that for an answer though.

"What do you mean you don't have it," his voice was beginning to rise and Aunt Petunia's and Dudley's heads popped out from the hallway to see what was happening. "You carry that blasted thing around with you, don't you!"

"I told you, I don't have it right now!"

"Then get it now, 'cause I'm going to snap its' blasted shape into a thousand pieces!" Harry felt his eyebrows raise and he backed up a step as his uncle began to move forward in his rage. The last time he'd looked this mad was when Hagrid sent all those letters through the chimney, which hadn't ended well. It didn't help that he was doing this all in front of a muggle either. He apparently was to the point of not caring though in his fury.

Harry watched as his uncle continued to advance on him with the rifle moving further into target. He was nearly a foot away from him when someone quickly, almost inhumanly moved between them. Harry stared confused into a blue shirt in front of him until his brain registered who it was in front of him.

Clark blocked Uncle Vernon from his vision, but he still heard the angered mans' heavy breathing from the other side of him. He held his hands in front of him, and Harry assumed he was holding them up to stop his uncle.

"Don't do this Mr. Dursley."

"Get out of the way boy, I'm after the freak!" The muscles in Clark's back stiffened immediately at those words. Harry felt panic, both for his new friend and his uncle, rise in his chest. Something was going to happen. Harry tried to push his way around Clark, but he only seemed to block more of the way.

"Clark, don't. I can handle this."

"I know what I'm doing," was Clark's reply, and Harry heard a click meaning only one thing. Uncle Vernon was going to shoot; he was actually going to shoot. Clark seemed to tense again and one of his hands shot up in an incredible speed that it nearly blurred. The sound of creaking metal reached Harry's ears and he tried to move around Clark again to see what was happening. Clark finally gave him room and Harry starred at the scene with shock.

Uncle Vernon's rifle was bent in the shape of an L, while his eyes stared at it like two large saucers. His skin was pale now, almost white and a twitch began to form in his left eye. One glance at Petunia and Dudley told Harry that they were about as shell-shocked as Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia was paler than usual, her hands grasped over her mouth while Dudley stared at the gun as his lower lip quivered and his hands inched towards the back of his large rump. Uncle Vernon, after several minutes of opening in shutting his mouth, managed to form words though in a very raspy voice.

"You're… You're a freak too!"

"What if I am?" Clark stepped forward a little and Uncle Vernon jumped a foot in the air, and dashed out of the room at an incredible speed. Aunt Petunia and Dudley also disappeared from the door but Harry could only stare at Clark. Clark's eyes followed the disappearing man, even when he left normal sight it seemed then finally turned to Harry.

"You all right?"

"Er…" Harry was at a loss for words. What do you say to someone who just bent your uncles' rifle in half and was probably only half the size of Hagrid? Not only that, Clark was floating just minutes before! And he didn't have a scratch on him! Clark seemed to be growing uncomfortable in the silence, plus Harry realized he was still staring like an idiot. So, shaking his head and trying to lift his jaw up from the floor he managed an answer; not without questioning however.

"Er, yeah I'm all right… What was that?" Clark's discomfort seemed to increase, and he shifted from foot to foot. He then went over to his broken bed, bent to reach something near it and produced Harry's wand. As soon as Harry caught sight of it, his jaw was back on the floor. He grabbed it from Clark's hands and grasped it in his own possessively. After examining it for a few minutes, he looked back up at Clark who smiled sheepishly.

"I figured you'd want to hide your… wand from your uncle." Harry's eyes widened, since his jaw was already on the floor and he stuttered a few times.

"Wha… My…How… Merlin…" Harry continued to mutter a few unintelligible phrases until Clark spoke up, though sounding nervous.

"So… you're a wizard?" Harry looked up at him dumbly. Was he just asking him that? This was so confusing… Could he tell him? That may be a bad idea since the Ministry had laws about telling muggles.

_He's not a muggle though, is he?_

He certainly wasn't normal. That was certain. How had he known though….? Harry hesitantly asked this, and Clark shifted a little once again and looked down at the floor.

"I… saw what's underneath the stairs and your bed."

"How?" Clark sighed and looked up.

"You first." Harry thought for a moment before making his decision.

"Yes, I am… Now you. How did you find out about my things?"

"X… X-ray vision." Harry grew confused at Clark's hesitant answer.

"X-ray vision? Like they do at hospitals?"

"Not quite… like with my eyes." Harry's shock returned, only half as strong as before though. He must have been growing used to this now.

"What are you?" That breathe before the plunge feeling returned to the air and Harry unconsciously rocked onto the balls of his feet in anticipation to the words that might spill from Clarks' mouth.

"I'm an…" Clark stopped, shifting more and staring everywhere but where Harry stood until he seemed to gather up enough of his nerves and stared him straight in the eyes. In a level voice, the words slipped out of his mouth like he'd said those words several times before. "Well, let's just say I'm not exactly from around here…"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Orlandandtom- I know, I'm lazy! Sorry that I've driven you insane.

Village Mystic- I thought it be best to put Fort Knox. If I'd said something like the Tower of London, that's not really something Clark would know about. **shrugs** Either way, I'd get a comment. And do you mean Americans at Fort Knox aren't as polite, or Americans in general?

TallieCat- I hope this chapter satisfied your eagerness.

WaffleNinja- Thanks for liking it, and I'm not sure… We'll see. Love your name by the way.

DuMont- Hope you got your answers!

Mitchell- Everyone's wondering why Petunia's acting strange, well you might see later on. But no, she didn't recognize it. And you leave me smiling 'cause that's just how you are I guess. Reviews are always nice, and yours just seem to have the certain edge to them.

AngelViper9- You'll find out later, maybe. We'll see…

Jasi- Not enough money, huh? Well, that's good. I'll just put away my virtual umbrella for the moment then. I'll be ready though. Thank you. The Idiot 1, 2, 3 thing just kind of popped into my head and I had to use it.

Writergirl1505- Thanks for the title suggestion, I'm kind of emotionally attached to my title though. I don't have pets so I name my stories, don't be surprised if I come out with another story titled _Fluffy. _Thanks though

Fantasywriter- Thank you, love the penname.

Alethianess- Now why didn't I think of a pillow? Thanks, next time I won't have to damage my wall.

ForeverTom- Thanks, I'm glad you aren't throwing tomatoes at me. I'm glad you like how Clark and Harry are interacting.

Nightwing- Thank you, glad someone else liked the bullies.

Red Jeanie- Yep, heat vision. Glad you liked it.

Angelkitty- Thanks, didn't update so soon though…

A/N: I know some of this chapter may seem confusing to some of you. I did change a couple things in previous chapters, but nothing to completely change the plot of the story. I can't believe I took this long to finish this thing! I'm truly sorry! It was worth the wait, I hope. Please review, and there's still time to guess what the silver-eyed beast is! (Syron13 you can't guess, that would be unfair, sorry! I shouldn't have told you!)


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Hey, look I've got another chapter! Aren't you proud of me! No? Well, I'm proud of me 'cause I didn't take a month to finish it. I hope this chapter isn't too weird. Also, still taking guesses in for what the silver-eyed beast is. One of you has gotten really close, probably the closest guess possible. Keep reviewing because it makes me happy!

Disclaimer: Don't own Smallville or Harry Potter despite how much I love both. I do however own any character you don't recognize, which **especially** **includes** the silver-eyed beast. Please ask permission before ever using him please.

Nightwing 509- Hope you still stay with me after this chapter, thanks!

Jasi - You're probably going to be on the edge of your seat again.

ForeverTom- Look, I've updated sooner than before.

jake paul- I was lazy, and had lots to do at school. I got this up quick though.

CantonJohn- Most anticipated fic? Really? You can't see me right now, but I'm grinning so much! Thank you!

randomreaderguy- Thank you! I've noticed that too. No lovey dovey in this story though. Well, none that I'm planning. If I ever have a sequel, we'll see...

anyabar1987- Don't worry, I plan on finishing this. Thanks.

Red Jeanie- Thanks, I'm sure their faces would be very white, if this was in fact in real life.

DuMont- Here's more. You can get off your soapbox now.

angelkitty77- Hope you still think that after this chapter.

Waffle Ninja- Thanks for the icecream and ribbon! **Hangs ribbon on wall**

Mitchell- superkitty, lol. That's good. You're starting to sound more and more like I guy at my school. His name's Mitchell too, weird. You're not the same person, are you?

catsfan33- I've got lots of ideas running through my head for this.

Princess Kielasandera- I'm guessing... both. Thanks for reviewing, and I'm still planning on reviewing more of your stories!

avidgokufan- I'm glad that I've got a new reader! Thanks for taking the time to review!

Chapter 7

"Where are you from then?" Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know, but his curiosity was itching to be told. Clark was silent for a moment as he moved over by the shelf holding a few random books. Taking one of the books down, he looked at it instead of Harry as he answered.

"Not really sure… My parents found me… and my space ship in a cornfield." Harry caught sight of the book he held in his hands then. It was that alien book. Things seemed to slowly click into place in Harry's mind and events over the past few days started to make sense.

"You're… an alien."

"Yes."

"Oh…" The room was silent for several minutes as each teen was caught up in their own thoughts. The entire time, Harry continued to stare at Clark. He felt as if he should be panicking, but there was only calmness. It was as if telling each other their secret had relieved a tension for him. All those times he'd been shocked by strange happenings around Clark seemed ridiculous now. He'd faced stranger things in the wizarding world, hadn't he? Why not an alien that was living in his room for the summer?

Harry felt a small smile come to his face as he remembered what he'd said the first time Clark had picked up that alien book. He broke the silence with a short laugh and Clark looked at him strangely.

"I guess I'm going to have to start believing that aliens exist now, huh?" A smile of relief grew on Clark's face.

"I guess so, and I'm going to have to get used to the idea of wizards existing," Clark replied. He paused for a moment and then started to say something else when he was cut off by a rapid tapping on the window. They both looked over towards the source of the sound; a bird. A large barn owl was perched outside the window, looking annoyed by the fact that it was still outside. A letter was clamped in its' beak with the Ministry of Magic seal on it.

Harry groaned as he went to open the window, letting the large bird in. Clark stared at it in confusion. The bird quickly dropped the letter and then swooped out without waiting for a drink or food.

"Owl post," Clark looked over at Harry when he said this, still looking confused. "It's how wizards deliver mail to each other." Clark nodded, seeming to understand. He then gestured to the sealed letter.

"So, are you going to open it?"

"I think I already know what it says," Harry mumbled as he broke the seal. His eyes scanned the letter quickly until something on it caught his eye. He read it over again a few times until he was sure it was right. When he was positive he was reading it right, Harry looked up at Clark.

"Merlin…"

"What?"

"How's this possible?" He looked back down at the letter. "Merlin…"

"What does it say?" Clark came over to Harry, trying to see what was on the paper clamped in his hand. Harry slowly looked up, staring straight into Clark's eyes.

"You're…" He paused for a moment, as Clark stared intently at him. Taking a deep breath to clear his bewilderment a little, Harry continued. "You're a wizard, Clark."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Now it was Clarks' time to stutter.

"Wha… How? What? This can't be… How?" Clark stared at Harry, his eyes wide as his mind tried to think of an explanation. Harry shook his head, and looked down at the letter.

"It seems that they did a background check on you," Harry began to explain. "I'm actually… not allowed to tell muggles, that's non-magical people, about the wizarding world. As soon as they found out, they checked to see who I told it to and you… don't have any records."

"What records?"

"Records that you were actually born, which makes sense I suppose since…" Harry paused, letting the sentence hang before he continued. "They had to do something- they don't really say in the letter- that apparently showed you had magic."

"Maybe they're mistaking my abilities as magic?" Harry shook his head again.

"I'm not sure. We could always ask someone..."

"I don't think that's a good idea." Harry gave Clark a confused look. Clark sighed, continuing with an explanation. "I'd rather keep what I am a secret. I don't want it to be heard by the wrong person."

Clark watched as Harry seemed to think about his explanation for a moment and then nodded.

"We'll have to just change the question a little bit then. They don't exactly tell us how they checked. We can find out what they did."

"Who are we going to ask though?" Harry's gaze became thoughtful again. After a few minutes something seemed to light up in his eyes.

"Dumbledore!"

"Who?"

"Professor Dumbledore. He's the headmaster of my school, Hogwarts. If anyone knows about this, it's him." Clark felt his eyebrow arch as he heard the name of the school. Hogwarts? That was probably as strange as Smeltings. This headmaster seemed to be a good choice though, and Clark nodded. Harry then smiled and quickly dove under his bed. His muffled voice could be heard as he rummaged through something.

"We'll have to go somewhere else to contact him."

"Can't you just send an owl?" Harry came out at that moment, bringing a pouch with him. It gave a few metallic clanks as he stood up, and faced Clark.

"I don't have an owl here. I sent mine to a friends' house before you came. We can rent an owl where we're going though."

"Where are we going," Clark asked hesitantly. An amused smile grew on Harry's face, and he replied as he moved towards the rooms' entrance.

"I'm going to give you you're first tour of the wizarding world… Diagon Alley."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

To say Clark was shocked that there was a wizarding community in London, was an understatement. And the fact that the opening to the Leaky Cauldron just appeared to him out of nowhere, didn't help his bewilderment.

They entered the Leaky Cauldron to see a room full of witches and wizards, and a few inanimate objects floating across the room. Clark continued to stare at the room until a hunched over man came up to them.

"Mr. Potter, how nice to see you! What'll it be today?" Harry smiled at the man, and gestured back to Clark as he spoke.

"My friend and I were just passing through to Diagon Alley, but we would like some breakfast."

"Right away, Mr. Potter. Come this way please." They followed the man to a table near the corner, and the man promptly seated them and handed them both menus. After ordering, Clark looked around the room a bit more only to find that the majority of its occupants were either openly staring or making quick glances in their direction. He turned to Harry to ask him about it, noticing the younger boys' slight discomfort. He obviously had taken notice of the stares too.

"Harry, why are they staring?"

"Because…" Harry hesitated, before continuing. "You know how I told you about my godfather?" Clark nodded and Harry continued.

"Well, they believed that he was working for a man named Lord Voldemort; a very evil man who believed that only pureblood wizards should allowed to live."

"What happened to him?"

"He tried to kill me." Clark looked at Harry in shock. Tried to kill him? Harry's hand went up to his forehead where he brushed away the bangs to show his unusual scar.

"He did that to you?"

"Not intentionally. He cast a killing curse and it sort of… bounced off of me and hit him."

"And he's dead now, this Voldemort?" Harry shook his dead.

"He's still alive, but very weak." Harry seemed to grow very grim, and his gaze shifted down to the stained wood of their table. Clark frowned as he recognized that air of gloom.

"There's more isn't there?" Harry slowly nodded and looked up. His emerald eyes seemed to burn with a pained anger as he began to speak.

"He killed my parents to get to me. They were trying to protect me, but he just killed them."

"I'm sorry," Clark replied after a moment of silence.

"It's been a long time," Harry said with a shrug, trying to appear at ease about what they were talking about but failing horribly. "There's nothing you should be sorry for." Silence fell over their table once again, and Clark figured it was time for a quick change of subject.

"So, what's this headmaster of yours like?" Harry seemed relieved that they were on another topic, and gratefully grasped onto the new conversation. He described the old and wise headmaster of his school, going from speaking of how he was a very well respected wizard to his unusual sweet tooth for muggle candies. Their food came at this time and conversation paused as both teens practically inhaled their breakfast.

" 'Arry, I knew those muggle relatives of yers weren't feedin' ye enough but I think ye need to slow down a bit." A surprised but pleased smile grew on Harry's face as he quickly got up from his chair to greet someone behind Clark.

"Hagrid!" Once Clark turned around he had the surprise of his life when his gaze continued to go up, and up until he looked into the face of a scruffy bearded man named Hagrid. Clark watched as Harry hugged the giant of a man, shocked that anyone could be that tall, and then asked him what he was doing there.

"I'm act'ally on Hogwarts business; having ta do wit' yer friend here act'ally. Mr. Clark Kent, I believe?" He directed the last words towards Clark, and he held out his hand. Clark stood up, feeling short for the first time since his first growth spurt, and shook hands with the large man. He stared for a moment in wonder as his own large hand was dwarfed, but managed to smile as he greeted the man.

"Yes, I'm Clark Kent. Pleased to meet you, Sir."

"Ye can call me Hagrid." Clark smiles broadened and he gave Hargrids' hand a brisk shake and then drew his own hand back.

"Are you here because of Professor Dumbledore, Hagrid?" Hagrid nodded, his face becoming business like as he reached into his moleskin coat.

"Er, yes. I 'ave somethin' here for ya." After a few more seconds of searching through the many pockets his coat contained, Hagrid pulled out a slightly rumpled letter with a look of triumph on his face. " 'ere ye go, Mr. Kent."

Clark took the offered letter and quickly opened it, to find a message elegantly scrawled onto a piece of parchment inside. He read some of it out loud, not quite believing what he was seeing.

"Dear Mr. Kent, we are pleased to inform you that… that you have been accepted to Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry. Under the situation of the sudden discovery of your powers by the Ministry of Magic, arrangements are being discussed over your specific placement of year and will be decided this evening in a meeting that we would like to invite both you and your parents to… my parents!" Clark looked up from the letter with a look of shock on his face. "They don't know anything about this!"

"Which is where I come in," Hagrid said as he fumbled with his pockets again, to pull out a large, moth-eaten glove. Clark stared at it in confusion. He glanced over towards Harry and found that he appeared just as confused.

"Hagrid," Harry said hesitantly. "What's it supposed to be?"

"A portkey, of course. Haven't ye seen one before?" Harry gave him a blank look in reply, and then shook his head. "What? Ye haven't? Well, it's supposed ta transport ya when ya touch it. This one's on a timer so we get sent back when the meetin' starts."

"Where are we going though?"

"Why… Mr. Kents' place of course."

A/N: It's a cliff-hanger again! I don't know why, but it just seems right to end it in a cliff-hanger. It's like the commercials between scenes. Sorry if I butchered Hagrids' accent. I tried though! Hope you liked this chapter, and didn't think it was weird or anything. Well, Clark's a wizard, hmmm. Now how did that happen? You'll find out later perhaps, we'll see. And guesses for the silver-eyed beast are still being received. I'm actually very surprised by the guesses I've been getting. Until the next chapter!


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: First I would like to offer my deepest apology to everyone I kept waiting for this chapter. It was unintentional and I hope it won't happen again. I'm on vacation now, so hopefully I'll have more time. I must warn you though, I am currently in a town so secluded that they got excited when a Mcdonalds was built and my only access to the internet is my grandmothers computer (which I'm currently on). I will also be unavailable for a while in the beginning of June, seeing as I'll be on a different continent. I promise though, that I'll spend all my fly time scheming…um, I mean plotting, wait that sounds just as bad…. I promise to continue writing. There we go! Well, enjoy the chapter!

A/N2: And another thing, I've given up on Hagrid's accent. Just can't stand going through all the words and trying to make it sound like his exact voice.

Previously:

_"Hagrid," Harry said hesitantly. "What's it supposed to be?"_

_"A portkey, of course. Haven't ye seen one before?" Harry gave him a blank look in reply, and then shook his head. "What? Ye haven't? Well, it's supposed ta transport ya when ya touch it. This one's on a timer so we get sent back when the meetin' starts."_

_"Where are we going though?"_

_"Why… Mr. Kents place of course."_

**The Kent Farm**

Clark felt a strange tugging sensation somewhere in his middle as everything seemed to disappear around him. The only thing that reassured him that he wasn't alone, falling into some strange and unkown abyss was the feeling of Harry and Hagrid nearby him. The fact that they were in the same situation as him though didn't help diminish his worries.

Before he could think of anything beyond the odd sensations and his creeping fear, the ground became suddenly evident beneath his feet. By reflex, he grounded his feet and a hand shot out to steady Harry before he fell. Harry thanked him, looking a bit green in the face.

"Here we are," Hagrid's voice boomed into the darkening farmyard. "Nice place you've got here, Mr. Kent." Clark looked around the familiar surroundings. They were currently standing in front of the barn, right beneath his fortress of solitude. He could see the kitchen windows blazing in the quickly diminishing haze of sunlight, and shadows moving about inside the house.

"Mom, Dad?" Clark made his way towards the house, seeing the shadows freeze in the kitchen. There was the sound of quick steps inside and then two figures burst through the kitchen door.

"Clark?" His mother's voice sounded unsure, which was expected since he wasn't supposed to be back for a while. He could see his father standing beside her, arm around her shoulders as he peered cautiously into the dark.

"Mom, Dad, it's me." Clark moved closer up and his father seemed to visibly relax as he released his grip around his wife and came down the steps. Martha Kent soon followed after him.

"What are you doing here, Clark? We weren't expecting you for quite a while. Did something happen?" His mother's eyes were filled with worry as she came up to hug him fiercely. As she released him from her hug that probably would have broken ribs if it were anyone else, Clark shook his head.

"It's not what you think. Something did happen though." Jonathan and Martha then took notice of the two figures, one very tall and one short, standing a little distance from them. Jonathan seemed to stiffen with caution as Martha peered at them with confusion.

"Who are they, Clark?" Clark motioned Hagrid and Harry forward, who both came slowly as to not startle Clark's parents.

"I'd like you to meet two of my recent acquaintances and friends," Clark emphasized the word friends and gave his parents a pointed look, which they responded to by relaxing slightly. "This is Harry Potter and Hagrid. I've been staying with Harry and his relatives and Hagrid is part of the reason I am here right now." Harry offered his hand first, which both the Kents shook and then

"Why do I have the feeling we're going to need to sit down for this," his father asked exasperatedly.

"Because you will," Clark said, putting his hands in his pockets as he looked around almost guiltily.

As soon as they were all inside (after some difficulty due to Hagrid's size) and seated in the living room with mugs of coffee and tea in hand Clark hesitantly began his story, editing a few things to exclude the alien related parts for later. Clark's parents seemed to notice the gaps in his story, which they both responded to with looks that told Clark that he better tell them everything soon or else.

Once his tale was told, Clark waited anxiously for their reaction. They didn't say anything for a while though, and he was getting worried. His mother looked astonished while his father looked pensive. Finally after nervous glances towards Harry and Hagrid for reassurance and several seconds of awkward silence, Jonathan opened his mouth.

"They want you to go to this… wizarding school?" Clark nodded his head.

"It's called Hogwarts, here…" Clark slipped a hand into his jacket and pulled out the letter he'd received in the Leaky Cauldron. "They want us to attend a meeting to discuss it further." He handed the letter to his parents and they silently read it. After a moment, Martha Kent looked up at Clark.

"I know we've seen many strange things Clark, but… magic?" Clark just shrugged.

"I wasn't sure at first either. What I've seen so far has pretty much changed my mind about that."

"Son, are you sure about this? There could be other explanations for what you've seen." The look in his father's eyes made it obvious what he thought could be the cause of everything. Most of the bizarre events that occurred in Smallville could be centered around the meteor rocks' influence. Why couldn't they give humans powers similar to magic? It seemed strange that so many humans could have the same abilities though, which only assured Clark's belief that this was something more.

"Dad, there's no other explanation for this. It's magic. I just sat in a place that no one can see except wizards and teakettles were serving people by themselves. Does that sound normal to you?" His father sighed, looking for the first time in his life confused.

"It just doesn't make any sense, Clark."

"Which is why I need to learn about it. Please, Dad. I need to go." His father looked at him for a moment, the calculating he was doing visible in his eyes. Finally, he sighed again almost wearily and shook his head.

"I'm going to regret this. When's this meeting?" A broad smile grew on Clark's face, quickly mimicked by Harry.

"It's in the evening, which will be a while since the meetings at Hogwarts."

"And where exactly is this… Hogwarts," his mother piped in.

"Its specific location is kept secret," Harry quickly replied. "But it's somewhere in Scotland."

"So you go to this wizarding school, Harry?" Harry nodded, smiling.

"Yes, it's like home to me."

"And you work there, Mr. Hagrid?"

"Please, just Hagrid. All my friends call me that. But yes, I am games keeper and keeper of the keys at and grounds Hogwarts."

"Don't forget that you teach too, Hagrid. And a brilliant one too." Hagrid blushed at Harry's comment.

"Well, that too. I wouldn't say I'm brilliant though."

"Oh, what do you teach?" Martha looked at Hagrid, smiling politely. She seemed to be growing more comfortable with their current situation.

"Care of Magical Creatures, Ma'am." Mrs. Kent made a gesture with her hand, smiling.

"Call me Martha. Ma'am makes me feel old." Hagrid smiled, making his beady eyes twinkle. Clark just stared in amazement at the ease his parents were in right now. His father still seemed to be brooding, but a small smile was on his face.

Clark then stood up, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

"I'm going to show Harry around a bit if it's all right." His parents nodded and Clark gestured for Harry to follow him upstairs. Before they were completely out of sight though, Mr. Kent called to Clark.

"We still need to talk about a few things in private, son." His father gave him another look that meant there was a lot to discuss and Clark internally groaned. This wasn't going to be a pleasant talk. Clark nodded despite the dread that was creeping into his stomach and then hurried up the stairs with Harry not too far behind.

Once they were both upstairs and in Clark's room he let out a groan and sat on his bed. Harry smiled at him sympathetically.

"I guess they want to talk about your other abilities, huh?" Clark groaned again.

"I'm probably going to get another lecture about not giving away my secret and I still have to tell them that I told you." Harry sat down on the bed beside him.

"I'm sure they'll understand. If it helps, I can find some spell that will make me keep your secret." Clark shook his head.

"No, I trust you," Clark then stood up. "Well, I might as well show you the rest of the farm. Come on, I'll show you the fortress of solitude." Harry looked up at him in confusion.

"The what?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX 

"This is the fortress of solitude." Harry looked around the loft, which was apparently the fortress that Clark was speaking of. A couch, desk and telescope made up the majority of the furnishing while a coffee table strewn with papers and books created the rest of the atmosphere. Harry smiled at it, despite the slight clutter.

"It's brilliant. Do you come up here a lot?"

"Every time I need to think," Clark replied as he moved towards the open window of the barn. "I mostly come up her to star gaze though." Harry moved up to the telescope, hesitantly peering through the eyepiece. He found to his surprise, that it didn't show stars but the house across the way, which currently had a pretty girl on its front porch.

"Who's she?" Clark looked at him in confusion before he looked through the telescope too. His confusion changed to embarrassment as he cleared his throat and moved the telescope up a little more.

"That would be Lana Lang."

"Oh, is she your girl friend?" Clark's embarrassment seemed to deepen as he put his hands in his pockets and scuffed the floor with his shoe.

"No, we're just friends." Harry nodded though he had the slightest feeling that there was more to what Clark thought of this Lana.

"I'd like to meet her some time, and those other friends you mentioned. That is… when we can figure out a way to without them getting suspicious." Clark smirked.

"I think Chloe will be suspicious no matter what. She's got too much reporter in her not to." Harry smiled, thinking of his own intuitive friend Hermione Granger.

"Yeah, I've got a friend like that too." They both stood there for a moment, looking out at the clear sky until both their thoughts were interrupted by a voice calling from below.

"Oi, Harry, Clark? Are you up there?"

"Yes, Hagrid. What is it?"

"It's drawing close to the time of the meeting. I figured Clark might want to talk to his parents before we leave." Harry looked over at Clark to confirm this, which he nodded to.

"We'll be right down," Harry replied back and they both soon came thundering down the stairs. They met up with Hagrid outside the barn and then split into different directions, Harry and Hagrid over by the garden and Clark into the house.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX 

"Clark, we can't let you go if you're developing another power." Things weren't going as well as before. Clark had filled them in on the burned rose bush and still hadn't had a chance to tell them about Harry. It just wasn't going to end well.

"I can learn to control it. I've learned how to use my other abilities, haven't I?"

"This is different," his father explained slowly, trying to calm his voice. "The other ones didn't involve flames shooting from your eyes."

"It's not like I asked for this. Do you think I want to be a walking flame-thrower?" Jonathan Kent shook his head.

"That's not what I meant, son. I just want you to be safe. What if this power activates itself at the wrong time? You've already burnt a bush in front of Harry. What if he gets suspicious?" Here was the part that Clark really didn't want to get to. He shifted in his seat nervously.

"He already knows."

"What!" Clark winced at his parent's simultaneous outburst.

"He found me floating in my bed."

"You should have told him it was magic."

"I didn't know for sure if he was a wizard then. Besides, I trust him."

"You barely know the boy. How are you supposed to trust him?" Clark's nervousness vanished as he looked up at his father, staring him straight in the eyes.

"I just know I can trust him. Trust me on this, Dad." His dad continued to stare back at him before sighing.

"Just be careful, Clark." Clark smiled at his victory.

"I will, Harry can even help me." Mr. Kent shook his head.

"I hope you're right. Is there anything else you want to add that will shorten my life by a few more years?" This was meant as a joke but Clark felt nervousness creep up on him as he thought of recent events involving a certain silver-eyed beast. He still couldn't figure out exactly what it was, but the thing said it was going to help him. Whether he should tell his parents about this though, Clark was still trying to figure out. So, he covered his anxiety and put aside the problem for now.

At that moment a light knock came from the kitchen door before Harry's head popped in. His expression seemed pensive before he appeared to shake it off and turned a polite smile towards them.

"Hagrid said that it's almost time for the portkey to activate and take us to Hogwarts. Ready to go?" Clark looked to his parents, who nodded and then turned back to Harry.

"We'll be out in just a second." Harry nodded and then closed the door again.

"Well, I guess there's not point in stalling is there," his mother said, smiling slightly. His father smiled in reply and the Kent family all headed out the door.

"Clark," Clark turned to his dad as they walked. "What's a portkey exactly?" Clark smiled.

"You'll see. Just remember to steady your feet at the end." With that, they reached the Hagrid and Harry. Hagrid took out the glove again, both Harry and Clark reaching out to touch it. The Kents hesitantly placed their hands on it also, looking confused. For a moment nothing happened until Clark felt that jolt and they disappeared from the Kent Farm.

TBC… Next up, the meeting….

Comments:

(I don't have much to say to everyone but some reviews struck my interest)

**angelkitty77**- Thanks, that will be 100 dollars for the self-mowing lawn mower and you get a free garbage bin with it. :)

**Alethianess**- I usually don't give away this much, but oh well. It's not Krypto and not anything you've seen in the comics, movies, or tv shows. Good guess though. 

**Mitchill- **You didn't die waiting, did you?

**Devyn**- Is that a good or bad hate?

**TsumetaiXKokoro- **Thank you for your comments, albeit a bit harsh. You had some good points but I assure you that I did not mean to sound like a broken record and I am not a disgrace to Smallville fans. I fully intend to take writing lessons once I have the money but until then I'm going to continue just writing.

A/N: I hope that was satisfying enough for everyone. I'm not quite sure about the time difference between Kansas and England, but I do know London's about eleven hours ahead of where I live so… I guesstimated (I know, that's not a real word.) Hope it was all right though. Remember, reviews make me happy and happiness means I'm writing (as long as I don't get stupid writers block or have something in the way that is).


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Here we go again; another chapter and we're drawing closer to the Quidditch World Cup! Don't worry, I have plans for that. It requires a bit of change to the canon, but I warned you in the beginning that that would happen. What do you expect from a crossover though? Sorry if it took a while. I did say that I would be gone for some time though, and then I had to type up what I had written in my notebook. It didn't help that I had trouble finding it once I got back, grrr! Ok, enjoy!

A/N2: Quick question. I've been told that I tend to repeat myself. What exactly do I repeat? I can't fix it if I don't know what to look for. Please help!

Previously:

_"Clark," Clark turned to his dad as they walked. "What's a portkey exactly?" Clark smiled._

_"You'll see. Just remember to steady your feet at the end." With that, they reached the Hagrid and Harry. Hagrid took out the glove again, both Harry and Clark reaching out to touch it. The Kents hesitantly placed their hands on it also, looking confused. For a moment nothing happened until Clark felt that jolt and they disappeared from the Kent Farm. _

**Hogwarts: School of witchcraft and wizardry**

Only a few seconds later, they all appeared in the headmaster's office. Jonathan Kent had managed to steady himself, helping his wife at the same time while Clark made sure Harry stayed on his feet. The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was patiently sitting in his desk with the deputy headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, standing beside him.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," he said to the group, before looking at Hagrid. "Thank you for bringing them, Hagrid. You may go now." Hagrid nodded his head before exiting through the doorway behind him. Professor Dumbledore then gestured to the Kents and Harry to sit down in chairs that hadn't been there a second ago. Clark's parents gazed at the chairs unbelieving as they sat down, a look quite similar on their son's face. Harry though, having seen this type of occurrence before, sat down without any thought about where the chairs had come from. He vaguely noticed that the first thing Dumbledore did was offer the Kents lemon drops, but Harry's mind was too plagued by thoughts to completely enjoy the humor of it. His conversation with Hagrid could be thanked for that.

He had mentioned Dumbledore wanting to speak with him in private once everything was sorted out with Clark, which only raised memories of the dream he had to his thoughts. He'd nearly forgotten it in all of the excitement but now that he remembered it, it bothered him. Why had his scar burned like it did? The only time he could remember it ever doing that was when Voldemort was near. But that couldn't be, could it?

Now he had to face Dumbledore alone, with those memories churning through his head and he didn't know if he should tell him. The headmaster had a lot on his hands already, what with school beginning the next month and everything. He inwardly sighed. His dream would have to be kept secret for now. He just needed the right person to talk to.

Clark sat there with an amused smile on his face as Professor Dumbledore offered them lemon drops, which Harry had explain were a sort of obsession with the eccentric headmaster. When none of them took any of the yellow treats, Dumbledore set the bowl back on his desk and popped one in his mouth before beginning their meeting.

"I would first like to welcome you to Hogwarts," he began. "As you know I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster. This is my deputy headmistress and the transfiguration teacher, Professor McGonagall." Professor McGonagall sharply nodded her head in greeting.

"Now, before we begin do you have any concerns for you son?" Dumbledore's eyes seemed to dig into them as he said this; His gaze first lingering on Clark's parents, and then landing on him. An emotion flickered in the old man's eyes but before Clark could identify it, it was gone.

"We are concerned about the expenses," Martha hesitantly said. "We have a farm to keep up, and we can't afford to send Clark to an expensive school." Dumbledore smiled warmly before answering.

"The only thing your son is required to pay for is his school materials, although… he has quite a lot to catch up with since he is starting so late in his schooling. No worries though. The school is always willing to help in special cases. His school books from the years he's missed will be provided."

"Exactly how many years is he catching up on, sir?"

"Well, since he is nearly sixteen this would be his sixth year. There are only seven years of training at Hogwarts."

"And you expect him to catch up on five years while learning another year too? Why is he starting later than the others in the first place?" Jonathan's voice sounded dangerously close to blowing. Dumbledore didn't even flinch though. Instead, he continued in a calm voice and a twinkle still in his eye.

"Of course, we've discussed this question ourselves, Mr. Kent. It seems that Clark was never registered in the wizarding records. As far as anyone knew, he was a normal muggle." The Kents exchanged looks, but didn't say anything. Dumbledore continued, not seeming to notice.

"There is a rule that no wizard can reveal our world to a muggle without the consent of the ministry. When Harry told Clark his secret," Harry's head popped up when he heard his name. It seemed that he hadn't been paying attention until then. "he obviously drew the attention of our ministry. Records were searched to find exactly who we were dealing with before they performed the memory altering charms, but none were found for young Mr. Kent. It would seem that your son was practically non-existent to our world until now."

Again, looks were exchanged. Clark could see that his parents were worried. They all knew why he wasn't in those records, and they feared that his sudden appearance would draw attention. His father almost seemed tempted to change his mind about this meeting, but the reassuring grip of his wife kept him in his seat.

"And what about his year placement? It's hard enough that he hasn't had any contact with your world until now. You can't expect him to catch up that quickly."

"That was discussed earlier with our teachers, and many of them agree that he should be placed in a lower year. He will be placed in the same year as Harry, fourth year. That way, with extra tutoring, he may catch up to his fellow classmates before O.W.L. testing. Do you agree with this decision?"

Clark's parents looked at each other before slowly nodding. Clark had to agree too. He might be in a lower year than he should be, but at least he would know someone then. Dumbledore seemed happy with their choice, and he quickly gestured to Professor McGonagall.

"Minerva will escort you to Diagon Alley then for Clark's supplies. She has the lists and will help you with any questions you have while there. I'm afraid we couldn't give Clark much of a choice in his extra classes so late in the summer. Minerva will inform him of his schedule in the beginning of the year once everything is in order." McGonagall stepped forward, her walk brisk. She pulled out an old quill from her robes.

"We'll be going by portkey," her voice matched her walk, Clark realized. McGonagall then addressed Harry, who looked as if he were waiting for the executioner. "Mr. Potter, you will be accompanying us to acquire your school materials also."

Harry's mood seemed to brighten, but that was only for a brief moment. Professor Dumbledore spoke up before they could leave.

"I wish to speak to young Harry before you leave, Minerva." She gave a curt nod before escorting everyone except Harry out of the headmaster's office.

It was several minutes before Harry came down the stairs. He looked a little grey, but it soon faded as he saw the people waiting for him. McGonagall took out the quill once again, and activated it.

"Please touch the portkey. I trust that you know how it works already."

"Unfortunately, yes." Mr. Kent grimaced as he placed a hand on the quill. A small smile crept onto the aged professor's face.

"You will get used to it eventually. Just be grateful we're not taking the bus." All the Kents looked confused except Clark who was sharing a knowing smile with Harry. They'd experienced it earlier in the day, and even Clark had felt grateful when their stop came.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Kent, hurry up already. We haven't all day." They were both brought back to the rest of the world by Professor McGonagall's strict voice, quickly complying and touching the quill. Immediately, the tug came and they were off.

They first went to Gringotts to have some of the Kents' money exchanged, and to acquire money for Harry. Harry didn't think he'd ever seen someone so surprised by the goblins before. He and Professor McGonagall reassured them that the goblins were civil though, so they had little to fear. Clark seemed to be trying to look at everything at once, much to Harry's amusement. It reminded him of his first visit to the wizarding world; how he didn't know where to look first. Clark's parents also reminded him of how Hagrid looked that day as they rode the carts down to his vault. Clark unsurprisingly looked unaffected by the fast turns and plummets of the track.

Their second stop was at Flourish and Blotts. They took a bit longer there since McGonagall needed to fill out a form to order all of the previous years' books for Clark. They spent that time browsing the shelves, Harry explaining a few of the odd names. Clark was especially interested in the quidditch books, though he didn't seem too fond of the flying part of the game. That made Harry laugh; the thought that Clark, of all people, was afraid of heights was just strange. He voiced this thought, which Clark answered with a sheepish smile and a shrug. Professor McGonagall was nearly finished with the paperwork at this point, so they hurried and collected their required purchases along with a few extras.

It didn't take as long in the apothecary. Harry just needed to refurbish his potion supplies, while Clark was buying what was required for him. The next few stops were fast since they were all the basic supplies for students at Hogwarts. They were all soon exiting Madame Malkin's, collecting by the door.

"What else do we need to buy?" McGonagall looked at her list.

"You still need a pet (?), and your wand. There are also a few supplies that the headmaster asked me to see renewed for the new year." An idea suddenly popped to Harry's head. He turned to his transfiguration teacher, voicing his suggestion.

"How about Clark and I go get his pet, while his parents can accompany you to get your supplies, Professor? I'm sure that they would like to talk to you alone for a moment." She seemed to contemplate this, bordering in her decision. Mrs. Kent seemed to make up her mind though.

"I think that would be a great idea. We can get to know you a little better too." McGonagall seemed to like this idea, and finally agreed. The Kents and Professor McGonagall then headed in one direction while Harry and Clark went towards the Magical Menagerie.

"Harry, you don't really have to do this." They were now both walking through the dim rooms of the menagerie. The air was cool and filled with scents from the animals around them. Harry shrugged.

"You need a pet and I figured it could be a welcoming gift of sorts. Hagrid bought Hedwig for me on my first visit to Diagon Alley." Harry had explained on the way what his pet was. Clark had been a little surprised that they would sell owls to kids, but he figured they must be special if they were trusted to deliver mail.

Clark stopped, looking around at the cages stacked about him. Now he just needed to pick something of his own. He had considered an owl, but the thought of having to explain his new pet to his friends if they ever saw it changed that. His choice needed to be something more normal, which immediately cancelled out that thing that was staring at him as its tentacle like feet danced beneath it in excitement.

He quickly past by it, moving further down the aisle. Maybe a toad or a rat would be fine. He'd never really had a pet before, since his strength hadn't been quite in control when he was younger for something very small to handle. This was new to him, so practically anything would make him happy.

They were drawing closer to the section that held reptiles now. Harry had moved in front of Clark by now and was inching towards the part that had snakes mainly. He seemed interested in something over there. Clark was about to join him, but froze in place as he saw a pair of silver eyes glowing in the shadows. Harry stopped too, apparently noticing them also.

It was here! Of all the times he'd see that mystery beast it appeared in a pet store. His first thoughts were to rush up to it and grab it, demanding answers. He realized this wouldn't work, however, since the thing would probably disappear even before he could get to it. So, no one moved.

After several minutes, Clark saw that no one was getting anywhere with them just standing there. The silver eyes continued to just stare at him too, so it didn't seem the animal would be taking any actions any time soon. Clark cleared his throat, calling out.

"Show yourself." The thing seemed to consider his command for a moment, its eyes tilting as it moved its still unseen head. Its answer was quick, and not what Clark had been expecting. Before even he could process the thought, the beast was shooting out of the shadows. Clark didn't have time to move the thing was so fast, and it was heading straight for his chest. Clark only managed to widen his eyes before fur and claws collided with his chest.

A/N: I'm back! I managed to do a whole lot of writing while I was up in air. It's really hard for me to sleep on a plane and I was on about five of them and then a train that went under the English Channel for some time too. So, I had plenty of time to think up evil ways to keep you hanging. By the way, I planned this ending just to let you know. **Rubs hands together **… Oh, I have to tell you my readers that I visited Kings Cross, platform 9 ¾ on my trip. It inspired a few things in my thoughts, so you should probably be scared. Ok, until next time! I won't be long!


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: You guys are going to so hate me after this chapter. I promise that it will be worth-while in the end though. Okay, on to the story then! Clarks Wand!

Chapter 10

Claws dug into Clark's shirt and he could only stand in shock as a small, pink tongue licked his face (A/N: This is why you're going to hate me.). It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but finally he focused on what was clinging to his chest. A rather large cat with unusually big ears and a lion tail that flicked about behind it looked up at him. Its fur was a messy black with patches of silver strewn about. The first thing that he realized was that it was too small to be his unknown beast, and the second was that he'd just made a fool of himself by presuming that the silver eyes were the same before taking in consideration that he was in a pet store. Now that he looked at them, although they seemed very much the same, they weren't. He glanced over at Harry, who also appeared to be making the same conclusions in his head by the redness that was rising to his cheeks.

"Ah, it would seem Priscilla has taken a liking to you, young man." Both Harry and Clark turned to see the shopkeeper smiling at them. "She's been quite nasty to the other customers ever since she got here this week, but Kneazles do tend to know who they should like; very intelligent creatures."

Clark looked back at the feline still attached to him. He'd never heard of a Kneazle before, but that explained its unusual appearance. Priscilla was just staring up at him now, some feline intelligence glinting in her eye.

"So, if you'll just follow me to the front I can get you everything you need to take Priscilla home with you." This brought their attention back to the shopkeeper. Clark looked at them in confusion.

"I never said…" They cut him off before he could protest.

"It's either buy the Kneazle now or have her follow you home later, young man. Once they make a decision, Kneazles stick to it. Also, I want some profit after all the trouble she's caused me." Clark sighed, looking back down at the Kneazle. After a moment he softly detached her claws from his shirt to settle her in his arms. He then followed the shopkeeper up to the front to make his purchases.

They came out of the Magical Menagerie carrying a cage containing Priscilla, and a bag full of supplies and treats for both the Kneazle and Harry's owl, Hedwig. He had told Clark excitedly that she would be back from his friend's house now that there was no need to hide her, and the owl would appreciate some treats.

This was the first time Harry had mentioned his friends. Clark asked about them, which Harry eagerly replied to by telling him about Ron and Hermione. They sounded much like his own friends, Ron being much into sports like Pete, and Hermione being intuitive about things around her like Chloe. The fact that she sounded as clever, if not more, as Chloe caused Clark's nerves to stand on end. What if she discovered his secret? He'd felt fine telling Harry, but he didn't know these two friends of Harry's at all.

A yowl came from the cage in Clark's hand, pulling him out of his worried thoughts. He looked down at Priscilla, who seemed to be looking up at him with a worried expression if that was possible for a cat. The shopkeeper had said that Kneazles were intelligent though, so he didn't doubt that she had some extra abilities compared to other cats. He stuck his fingers through the bars to stroke her head lightly, reassuring the Kneazle that he was all right. She purred in response, only stopping when he drew back his hand. Priscilla actually looked disappointed that the petting ceased, and it made Clark chuckle a little.

It wasn't too long before they caught sight of Clark's parents and the transfigurations teacher ahead of them. Martha Kent seemed to be in an animated discussion with the older woman, while Jonathan seemed unsure about where he should stand. He was looking around at the wizards and witches bustling about them in a hurry, his eyes dragging across their apparel and then glancing down at his own. Clark had to clear his throat loudly in order for them to notice they were there. When they did, their eyes immediately went to the cage.

"What did you get, Clark?"

"A Kneazle," this earned him confused looks from his parents. "It's a type of magical cat. I figured a cat would be easier to explain than an owl in my room." His mother leaned down to look into the cage. Priscilla looked back at her with mild interest, while Martha smiled.

"She seems nice," She finally said, straightening up again. "Does she have a name yet?"

"The shopkeeper called her Priscilla. I think I'm going to stick with that." Jonathan came closer to get a better look at the Kneazle too, seeming skeptical of what he saw.

"Are you sure we can pass this thing off as a normal cat? It looks strange." Priscilla didn't seem to take this well. She hissed at her offender, causing Mr. Kent to back up a little.

"You might want to be careful what you say, Dad. Kneazles are supposed to be very intelligent." Mr. Kent looked at the cat once again, which seemed to glowering back at him.

"I'll keep that in mind." Martha Kent chuckled and rested a hand on her husbands shoulder.

"It's never nice to insult a female, Jonathan, no matter the species."

"Mrs. Kent is quite right," All eyes turned to Professor McGonagall. "Now, if you all are ready, I believe we have a wand to purchase."

Clark had nearly forgotten after the events in the Magical Menagerie. He didn't have a wand! He would have felt quite foolish if he'd tried to leave without one. They all quickly followed the deputy headmistress, Clark silently thanking her for reminding him. A thrill went through him suddenly at the aspect of him receiving a wand; a real wand! Clark wondered for a brief moment if this was how all wizards felt like when they first went to purchase their wands. By the look on Harry's face, it probably was. He seemed to be stuck in a fog of memories as they neared an old shop with chipping lettering.

_Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._

A dusty, purple pillow held an even dustier wand in the display window. McGonagall went inside with no hesitation, and they all soon followed her in. The room was dark, almost foreboding in Clark's opinion. He felt an odd sensation brush his mind, causing him to look to his immediate right. There, stood a man.

He moved out of the shadows, his wide eyes piercing through everyone in the room. His gaze first crossed over Professor McGonagall and then finally landed on Harry. The shifting of his gaze to the young man's forehead was obvious as he stepped closer.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I wasn't expecting you to be in here any time soon. I do hope this visit isn't for you. I dare say your wand was… irreplaceable." Harry shuffled his feet and looked away from the scrutinizing gaze of who could only be Ollivander himself.

"Er, no actually," Harry replied. "We're here for my friend, Clark Kent." It was Clark's turn to be pinned under the man's eyes. He stared at him, seeming to attempt to pick Clark apart with merely a look. Finally, he spoke.

"Yes, I heard of a new arrival to Hogwarts. I was informed that he was a late starter, but I had no idea…" Ollivander said this more to himself than to those in the room. His eyes fogged over for a moment, as he continued to ponder to himself. McGonagall quickly grew impatient with the man.

"Mr. Ollivander, are you or are you not going to attend to the boy's need of a wand, or am I going to have to go through the shop on my own?" This brought Ollivander out of his reverie quickly, after the obvious threat to his shop space. He made a noise in between a huff and grunt before stepping forward with measuring tape.

"Hold out your wand hand." Clark promptly stuck out his right hand and the measuring tape jumped to life, measuring along his arm and other places that didn't appear to have anything to do with getting a wand. He stood there patiently, however, trying to remind himself that the man knew what he was doing. Ollivander quickly took in the measurements, ending the measuring tape's fast movements with a gesture of his hand. He then hurried to the back of the shop, disappearing into the shadows. When he appeared once again, Ollivander carried several long, thin boxes in his arms. He set them all down on the counter and opened the first box on the top.

"Late starters usually have an unusual core in their wands, one as unique as its owner. Here, try this: willow, quite springy, 12 ½ inches with powdered dragon scales. Go on, give it a wave." Clark did as he was told, regretting it immediately. The wand caused chaos as it exploded all the books on a shelf nearby. He was expected this to anger the old wand maker, but instead another wand replaced the one in his hand immediately.

"No, no, no. Try this then: Holly, 13 inches, manticore hair; good for defense magic." Again, Clark waved the wand and disaster ensued. The pile became smaller as they went through the wands with no success. Clark was growing anxious, thinking perhaps this had been all a big mistake. He was rationalizing with himself that he was already different enough, and it wouldn't matter if he didn't go to this wizard school when Ollivander came to another box. This ones color was faded a bit, the edges dulled from several years of wear. Ollivander looked at it, pensive.

"Ah, this has been on the shelf for many years; one of my fathers' wands. He used to do custom wands for different families, but stopped when the wizarding community grew so much to make it impossible to do. Apparently the one who requested this one… never came back for it." He looked up from the box at Clark.

"Perhaps it will have an owner now." Mr. Ollivander removed the lid to reveal a nicely polished wand inside. The wand itself was black while the handle seemed to be a lighter type of wood. The old wand maker carefully took it out of the box, offering the handle to Clark.

"It's quite an interesting combination. Ebony is used for the wand, with a White Poplar handle. The core is a mix of powdered basilisk fang and phoenix tears." Clark hesitantly took it from the man's hand. As soon as his fingers touched it though… it was as if it has always belonged there. He felt an odd sensation go through him, starting from his hand and spreading throughout his body. A fountain of red and blue light shot out of the tip of the wand as soon as he waved it. They soon faded away to leave the room dark once more, but not before Clark thought he saw a symbol dissolve with the colors. It looked oddly familiar, but he chose to ignore it as he heard clapping.

The collected group cheered at the display of colors, which signaled the choosing of a wand. Ollivander happily took the wand back to pack it up and draw up the bill. They paid him and went to leave but Clark was stopped by Mr. Ollivander before he could step out of the door with the rest.

"I must tell you, Mr. Kent," the man said to him in a hushed voice. "That is a powerful wand you have, and the man to request it is assumed to be just as great. I expect you to take great care in its use."

"Who exactly asked for this wand to be made, Mr. Ollivander?" He shook his head in reply.

"No one knows. My father took his name to the grave, swore to. The only clue we have is that the man disappeared into the Forbidden Forest. Perhaps the answer to your question lies there, but I would advise never to go there. Now, good luck with that wand." Ollivander hastily ushered him out of the shop, closed the door, and hung a closed sign in the window. Clark stood there, looking at the closed shop for a moment before he felt a hand grip his shoulder.

"You all right, Clark?" He turned to see his father, concern obvious in the older man's eyes. Clark shook off his brooding mood and nodded to him in answer. He then realized for the first time that there was hardly anyone else in the street with them. Most of the shops were in the process of closing, he noticed and those few who remained were just sending out their last customers.

"Come, it's getting late and I'm sure you all must be hungry." McGonagall reached into her robes to pull out the portkey again. She held it out as she continued. "Professor Dumbledore would like to invite you all to dinner in the Great Hall, where you can discuss things if this trip has raised any questions for you."

"Well, I'm not sure we have any more questions but we would love to join him for dinner." Martha gave her husband a pointed look, after warmly addressing the older woman. He seemed subdued by her gaze, since he was about to decline the offer. His mouth remained shut though, and Mrs. Kent seemed satisfied with that.

"Dumbledore will appreciate your company, as will I." McGonagall smiled warmly. "I would still like to continue that discussion with you, Martha." Clark was surprised by this. Apparently his mother and the deputy headmistress had gotten on first-names basis in the short time they knew each other. It showed that the strict woman would be easy to get along with though, which made Clark's outlook on the school year much more relaxed. He was curious about what they were discussing though. There was no time to contemplate this, however, as he noticed everyone taking hold of the portkey. His hand soon followed the rest and in the blink of an eye, Diagon Alley held no more customers.

A/N: There you go, another chapter! I wanted to get it in before the next book came out. I'm sure you all will be busy in the next few weeks with the sixth HP book. I know I'll be… that is, whenever my sister finally hands it over to me. She's got first dibs on it, so frustrating… Ok, don't forget to review, and I'm STILL waiting for an answer for my question from last chapter. What am I repeating?


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Well I'm back. I had to go to camp (remind me never to do that again, no matter how fun some of it may be.), and then the 6th Harry Potter book came out so that distracted me. I'm sure some of you may still be going through the book, but I hope most of you have finished and read this chapter as soon as possible. Oh, and please review!

Alethianess- I saw that too! I was going to go back to change it and then I completely forgot. Then, when I was trying to remember what it was that bugged me about that chapter, I couldn't remember until you mentioned that. Thanks, I plan to go and change it soon.

morgan000- In due time he will.

mitchell - Fortunetely, my sis didn't make me wait 'cause she went crazy and bought her own copy of the book since she didn't want to wait for the book we pre-order to come. Thanks for the great review, as usual!

CT Malone- I'm not going to confirm that theory whistles while looking around innocently

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Smallville and am in no way associated with either beyond the status of a fan. Thank you.

_This chappie is dedicated to the deceased character of the 6th Harry Potter book. May they rest in peace. I'm secretly wishing they aren't really dead._

Chapter 11

They arrived in the Great Hall shortly after porting into the Entrance Hall. Dumbledore seemed delighted to see them there as he stood up to greet them and gesture to the empty seats near him. The four house tables were missing and a single table was placed in the hall, very much like Christmas in Harry's third year. He was relieved to see that Snape wasn't there this time. A few teachers were there though, those that had arrived early for the school year or lived at Hogwarts the majority of their time. One of these teachers included Trelawney, who happened to be making her way towards them right now. Harry groaned, drawing the gazes of the Kents to him.

"It's Professor Trelawney," he quickly explained. "She's the divinations teacher. Last year she kept predicting my death."

"Mr. Potter, what a pleasant surprise." Trelawney had finally made her way to their side of the table. She spoke in that mystifying voice that she always did, which never sounded quite convincing.

"Hello, Professor Trelawney. How was your holiday?" Harry attempted to sound cheery, but felt that he was failing miserably. Trelawney didn't seem to notice this however, as she replied happily.

"The inner eye was quite clear this summer. I knew you would return safely back with us this school year." Her bug-eyed gaze shifted to Harry's right, where Clark was sitting. He shifted in his seat as Trelawney stared at him, her eyes eerily magnified by her glasses.

"And who are you, young man?"

"Clark Kent, I'm…" He was cut off by Trelawney as her hand shot out to grab his hand. He stared at her in confusion as she examined his palm. Harry had to keep himself from laughing despite the obvious discomfort this was causing Clark. He watched as Trelawney muttered a few things under her breath, while Clark looked to him for help. Harry just shrugged, showing that this was out of his power.

"Yes, yes. Good strong life ahead of you… but I dare say, this looks like trouble."

"What, um, Professor Trelawney, looks like trouble?" Her head shot up to meet Clark's gaze, as she replied in what sounded like her most dramatic voice.

"It would seem you will fall terribly ill within the next few weeks, terribly ill. I'd say something as nearly as bad as dragon pox."

"Um, Ok." Clark arched an eyebrow, looking at Harry. Harry at this point was rolling his eyes. He quickly steeled his facial features though, as Trelawney looked at him.

"And Mr. Potter," for a moment he was afraid she'd noticed his eye-rolling, but that fear was squashed as she quickly continued. "You'd better be careful with that flying of yours. The tarot cards gave me a terrible reading this afternoon."

"Er, thanks Professor." Trelawney then left with a swish of her shawls and tinkling of her bangles and beads. Clark looked bewildered as he faced Harry again.

"What was that all about? I didn't even think palm reading worked that way. Are you supposed to be able to predict illnesses like that?"

"I told you, she likes to predict people's misfortunes for some reason. She's ruddy mad."

"I can see that."

"Clark!" Clark looked sheepishly at his mother.

"Well, come on Mom, when is it ever that I get sick? You've never believed in seeing the future yourself, and you're still unsure after Cassandra."

"Who's she?" Clark quickly explained about the blind woman who could see the future just by touching a person's hand. Harry couldn't help feeling shocked that a muggle could possess those powers, but Clark had explained about the meteor rocks. He glanced nervously over at the teachers around them at the end of the tale. Almost everyone, fortunately, was in their own small discussions. Dumbledore had been paying attention to some of the tale though, as he leaned closer suddenly.

"That's an unusual tale Mr. Kent. Am I under the right impression that this town of yours, Smallville, has something to do with the woman's powers?" Clark seemed hesitant to answer, but he did after a quick glance at his parents.

"There was a meteor shower a while back, and things… changed in our town; most of them for the worst." Dumbledore seemed to contemplate this for a moment before speaking.

"I believe I've heard of this town from an old friend. He had been researching the life-styles of American Bowtruckles in the vicinity when the shower happened. It scared him so much the dear man forgot to put up a shielding charm as one of them landed on the tree he was under." At this Dumbledore shook his head. "Poor man, his magic's never been the same ever since, and he's developed an unusual taste for wood lice too."

Both Harry and Clark pulled an obvious face of disgust at the last statement, although they still had a mutual pity for the man. He'd been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and it had cost him his magic.

"I'm sorry about your friend." Dumbledore waved a hand, dismissing the matter.

"It's not as if any of us had the power to stop it from happening. Accidents happen, you know." Clark seemed troubled though, and Harry had a creeping feeling he knew why. He was blaming himself for the entire thing, even when he'd only been a small child when it happened. Harry studied his new friend for a moment.

There it was, the guilt flashing through his eyes. Harry had felt it on several occasions and it still burned through him at late hours of the night. Dumbledore seemed to notice a change in his newest student and was looking at Clark with obvious interest. Clark appeared to be avoiding the elder man's eyes, probably too uncomfortable with the emotions swimming around in him to look at anyone.

There was a sudden hiss from the ground near Clark's chair after a couple minutes of uncomfortable silence. They looked down to see Priscilla looking very annoyed, glaring through the bars of her cage.

"I guess I should let her out of that cage," Clark said as he bent down to do so. Her fur was on end as she exited the confines of her traveling cage but she slowly calmed down as Clark stroked her fur.

"Ah, I see you've got yourself a Kneazle, Mr. Kent." Clark smiled, nodding.

"Either that or she got me." The headmaster chuckled, understanding what he meant.

"Well, Kneazles are quite picky about whom they choose but once you've gained one's loyalty it can be very beneficial." Priscilla jumped up into Clark's lap, sniffing at the contents of his plate. A light, begging meow exited her mouth and everyone laughed.

"Looks like someone's hungry." Clark gave her a piece of ham from his plate, which Priscilla munched on happily.

"Now Mr. Kent," Clark looked up at Dumbledore, giving him his full attention. "I was wondering if you were planning to stay with your parents for the remainder of the summer, or would like to stay with Harry."

"He can stay as long as he likes. I don't think the Dursleys will be bothering us for a while," Harry quickly put in. A look was exchanged between all of the Kents, and they were silent for a moment before Jonathan Kent nodded. Clark smiled and replied to Dumbledore.

"I think I'd like to stay with Harry, if that's all right. He can help me with any questions I have." Dumbledore nodded, understanding.

"Then I believe everything is settled," Dumbledore smiled before slowly rising from his chair. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have some business to attend to before retiring to my quarters. It was a pleasure meeting you all." The headmaster nodded his head in farewell to them all before moving towards the exit. There was movement from Clark's lap as the aged man left, which turned out to be Priscilla watching the headmaster intently with her silver eyes.

A yawn came unbidden to Harry's lips at this point and he finally noticed how high the moon was on the enchanted ceiling.

"We should probably get back to the Dursley's," Harry finally said. He turned to Clark's parents, smiling at them. "It was great meeting you two." They both returned his smile and Jonathan Kent shook hands with him.

"It's nice to know that our son has met someone like you." Harry felt a blush coming to his face as he ducked his head sheepishly.

"I'm sure he would have been better off without me. I tend to attract trouble." A small smile and knowing look was exchanged through the two adults before Martha Kent replied.

"Then you and Clark will be quite a pair."

A/N: Grrrrr! You know, reading the sixth Harry Potter book kind of put my mind on stand still for a while. Maybe because I was kind of sad afterwards or maybe because of all the new tidbits the book gave me; made me confused for a while. Either way, I took rather long in getting this chapter out. Sorry! I'm kind of befuddled with my new story now as well, so you'll have to be patient with that one. Bad idea to start it right before the new book came out.


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